


Shut Up, Malfoy!

by Nayra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Albus Dumbledore Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Bisexual Harry Potter, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, But she doesn’t know yet, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy/Female Harry Potter - Freeform, Dumbledore's Army, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Evil Albus Dumbledore, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Genderbending, Good Parent Severus Snape, Good Severus Snape, Gryffindor Common Room, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Harriet Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Has Nightmares, Harry Potter Has PTSD, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Heavy Angst, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Humor, Hurt Harry Potter, Imperius Curse (Harry Potter), M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Nightmares, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Potter Family Feels (Harry Potter), Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Sassy Pansy Parkinson, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Redemption, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Slow Romance, Slytherins Being Slytherins, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nayra/pseuds/Nayra
Summary: Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin Prince. He made her blood boil.Harriet Potter. The Chosen One. Her name made him cringe.Or:The one in which Harriet succeeds in making a certain Malfoy shut his trap and then falls in love.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 87
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever HP fic! Seeing as I also normally only write one-shots, please be gentle with me :)  
> But to get on with it, thank you all very much for clicking on this fic and giving it a try, I sincerely hope you all enjoy the rollercoaster of events that are to come!  
> Cheers,  
> ~ Nayra
> 
> ***All rights and characters go to J.K Rowling***

Upon seeing Harriet sitting alone in one of the compartments on the Hogwarts Express, Draco trotted over and slid the door open with a sly chuckle. “Hey Potter! Where are your other trolls, I thought you all traveled in packs?” 

Harriet rolled her eyes at him. “If you’ve ever bothered to stick your nose in a textbook,  _ Malfoy _ , you’d have known that trolls travel alone, not in packs.”

“So you admit you’re a troll?” He purred maliciously, sitting across from her.

“I never said that,” Harriet snapped back quickly. “Now would you be so kind as to leave?” She asked in a sing-song tone, motioning towards the still open compartment door. “My friends are coming.”

“Why should I? I’m perfectly comfortable here.” He said as he cocked a brow and pulled the door shut before slouched back, eventually laying down with his legs propped up on her trunk. He extracted a small ball from his pocket and began tossing it up in the air with ease. 

Harriet huffed and crossed her arms, staring at him hatefully. “Why must you always insist on being near me?” She spat and set the  _ Daily Prophet _ down on her lap, unable to pay attention to the article anymore now that  _ he  _ was here. 

“To annoy you,” answered Draco simply, not even so much as bothering to look her way. “What other reason would there be?”

“Well it seems as though you have some sort of infatuation with me!”

Draco cringed. “I wouldn’t stoop that low, Potter.”

“Oh, of course,” she said dramatically. 

“What about you, then?” He leaned forward, smirking in her face. “Who do you fancy?”

“I don’t see that as any of your business,” she huffed again. “And besides, you never told me who you fancy, so why should I have to answer the question?” 

“You’re feeling mighty entitled, aren’t you?” He sneered. “I’m not just going to tell you who I fancy. All I can say is the girl is lucky. However, whichever bloke it is that you fancy, he’s going to get the short stick.”

“Get, out!” Harriet whined now and slumped down in her seat as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Get the bloody hell out of my compartment! You’re not supposed to be on this side of the train anyways!”

Draco smirked and stared up. “Make me, princess,” he taunted as he crossed his arms. “Hurts you to hear the truth, hmm? Or were you just expecting to be the girl I fancy?”

“Ugh!” Harriet groaned, growing sick of his sly comments, so she decided to give him one back. “All I was expecting you to reveal was that you’ve been crushing on Moaning Myrtle!” She jeered. “You do talk to her in the loo, do you not?”

Draco turned pink and bit his lip, unsure of how to respond for once in his life. 

“Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?” Harriet snickered and cocked her head to the side while sporting a wide grin. 

He was silent for a few more moments, his lower lip trembling and eyes starting to water, though he quickly brushed the tears away before they could fall. “Who I confide in isn’t any of your concern,” Draco whispered under his breath. He refused to look up at her as he toyed with the sleeve of his green and black robes, the ball he had been throwing having been pocketed in his side pouch. “Just because you have friends to talk to doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

Harriet was at a loss for words, never once had she ever seen the great Slytherin Prince back down the way he just did. She almost felt bad.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Save it, Potter,” he mumbled, “we all know what a great life you have here.”

“What do you mean?” She asked softly, looking thoroughly confused. 

“You have friends— friends that are like family. Not everyone has that you know.”

“Don’t you?” Harriet asked sadly, finally locking eyes with him only to notice how broken his were— how deteriorated and lost they seemed. 

“I have to go,” he resorted and got up and walked out of the compartment without another word.

Rather than stopping him, like she probably should have, Harriet watched as the boy walked out of the compartment. His head was hung low and hands were bawled deep down inside his pockets, the nails at the tips of his fingers biting into his palms so hard he drew blood. 

It only occurred to her then how deeply her words could hurt, even if she hadn’t meant it as such. 

__________

“He shut up?! Malfoy actually shut up?! Like…. like he said nothing?!” Ron beamed excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat as the train sped along the tracks. 

“Well he didn’t say nothing par say….” Harriet started slowly. “He said he had to leave.”

“Might as well have said nothing then! What a pathetic!” The redhead laughed to which Hermione leaned over and flicked him on the head.

“Ronald Weasley!” 

“ _ Hermioneeee! _ ” Ron whined as he rubbed his temple with his fingers. “That hurt!”

“Then stop being such a prat,” Hermione said, nose high in the air. “You’re no better than him, talking like that.”

“Well at least Malfoy doesn’t have a  _ friend _ who physically damages him! You’re going to leave a bruise right in the middle of my face!”

“Oh hush, Ron, stop being such a baby,” Hermione exclaimed lightly, the smallest of smiles spread across her face. 

“It’s still gonna leave a mark….” he whispered and slouched back in his seat, crossing his legs and propping them up on the bench across from him. 

“You’ll live.”

“You’d better hope so, or else I’ll haunt you as a ghost forever!” 

“Well at least I’ll always have company,” Hermione smiled and pecked a kiss on his cheek. 

He smiled in response and put an arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzling in close.

“Can’t pry these two apart yet?” Ginny asked Harriet as she popped her head into the compartment. 

“Not as of yet,” Harriet said, perking up a bit upon seeing the youngest of the Weasley’s. 

“Well I’ll keep you company so you don’t have to third-wheel.” 

She plopped down beside Harriet and set her bag on the floor. 

“Thanks G,” Harriet smiled. 

“Don't mention it, I’m used to this, after having to live with this all Summer, that is” she giggled. 

“Yeah,” Harriet said a little more defensively now, “must have been a real drag being with your friends all Summer long.”

Ginny bit the inside of her cheeks and looked down. “Sorry.” 

“You should be,” Harriet raised her voice, starting to get frustrated. “Have you no idea what it's like for me during those two months?”

“I don’t Harrie, I’m sorry.” She answered honestly. Ginny really had no idea how hard the Dursley’s were on Harriet. 

Harriet furrowed her brows and shook her head as Ron and Hermione split apart on the seat opposite her. “I just wished you had at least owled me! I was left in the dark, for weeks!”

“Harrie, Dumbledore told us not to—”

“I don’t care! I don’t care what Dumbledore says!”

“Well you should,” Hermione said a little harshly. “He’s the Headmaster!”

“Whatever,” she responded and got up. “I need a walk.”

__________

As Harriet stormed along the halls on the train, not paying matte took to where she was headed or who was in front of her for that matter, she nearly ran over Cho Chang. 

“Harrie?” The older girl asked quietly as they bonked into each other. “Are you alright?

“Ch-Cho!” Harriet said in surprise and quickly wiped her eyes and took a step back . “H-Hi. Yeah, I’m—I'm fine. Sorry— wasn’t looking where I was going…”

Cho smiled as best she could and straightened out her jumper. “S’alrigh,” she whispered. “I was lost in thought as well.”

“Y-yeah, lost in thought… I—” she turned and looked behind her. “I should g-go…”

“Yeah, me too, I’ll see you later.” Cho gave her a short wave goodbye and continued on to the trolly. 

Harriet sighed and went on towards the loo without realizing she had made her way into Slytherin territory of the train. 

“Hey, Potter!” A voice rang from behind her. “What do you think you’re doing on this side of the train? Your lot belongs at the front.”

“Shouldn’t you be busy wiping dung off of Malfoy’s shoes?”

Blaise sneered and balled his hands into fists at his sides.

“Funny, I don’t see any smoke coming out of your ears,” Harriet chuckled as she crossed her arms across her chest. 

“Shut it, Potter!”

“Make me.”

The Slytherin’s hand twitched for a second, which was enough to let Harriet know he was going for his wand. She quickly extracted her own and disarmed him with a short flick of the wrist. 

“Expelliarmus!” 

Blaise’s wand went flying high in the air and she caught the wooden object in her left hand, smirking ferociously. 

“Now what a shame that is,” Harriet mocked and she tapped the wand against her head. “How on Earth could such a  _ brilliant  _ wizard such as yourself let this happen?

“Give it back!”

“Apologize.” Harriet shrugged. 

“Give it to me!”

“Maybe all that smoke is blocking your hearing because I said, apologize.”

Blaise growled and started towards her but was knocked aside when a compartment door burst open. He tumbled onto the floor rather harshly, even managing to hit his head against the wall on the way down. 

“Whoops,” a tall redhead with freckles laughed. 

“Did we kill him?” An identical looking boy inquired jokingly as he too, stepped out into the hall. 

“Who cares,” Harriet chuckled and walked over to the twins. “Thanks you guys.

“At your service!” Fred bowed. 

“Any time milady!” George added with a curtsy. 

Harriet laughed and gave them each a hug as if it had been all summer since she’d seen them, even though they had been together not a few hours ago. 

“So, why are we making trouble with the Slytherins so early on in the year?”

“Just thought I’d get the first hit in I suppose. Y’know, surprise attack.”

“Ah, I like it!” George said. 

“So why are you on this side of the train?” She asked the two of them, curious as to why they weren’t in their normal seats. 

“Well, if you must know,” Fred started, “we were working,” George finished with a grin. 

“Let me guess. A prank?”

The twins both grinned simultaneously and opened the compartment door to reveal a group of seventh year Slytherins all dead asleep with extended noses about three feet long that were entwined at the centre. 

Harriet’s lips spread into a wide grin as she rolled her eyes. “Congratulations, you beat last year's time for the earlier prank pulled at school.” 

The boys high-fived. “Yeah!”

“So what happens when they wake up?” Harriet inquired, her head tilted slightly to the side. 

“Not sure, it’ll probably be when the train is back in London so, who knows.”

She nodded and plopped Blaise’s wand next to him as the train started to slow down causing the three of them to sway. 

“Crap! I’m not even in my robes yet!” Harriet said, looking down at her muggle clothes. “I got to go! Catch you lot later!”

“See ya’Harrie” The twins called as she hurried down the hall back to her compartment to grab her robes before the train came to a complete stop. 

“Where  _ have _ you been?!” Hermione exclaimed, standing up as Harriet bounced on in. 

“Slytherins,” she said out of breath and grabbed her trunk to flip open the latches. 

“Was it Malfoy again?” Ron asked worriedly. 

“Zabini.”

“Are you okay?” 

“Your brothers saved my arse.”

“What did they do?” Ginny asked, though she still looked a little sour at Harriet. 

“Let’s just say Blaise might be waking up in London.”

“What?” All three friends asked, completely confused. 

“They knocked him out with a door,” Harriet shrugged and started slipping her robes on over her clothes. 

“You’re kidding?” Ron gasped with a wide smile. 

“Nope. He’s out cold.”

“Brilliant!”

“No, not brilliant!” Hermione said quickly, looking concerned. “He could be hurt!”

“He’s a big boy Hermione, he’ll be fine.”

The brunette bit her lip before slowly nodding. “I suppose…” 

“Besides,” Harriet continued on, “it's not like he’ll be alone. Fred and George cursed some other asleep too. He’ll have friends to spend the rest of the school year with in London!”

“Merlin, mom’s gonna kill them!” Ginny giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“Perhaps, but then again, their ghosts will just join Peeves, the fun and pranks will never end,” Harriet joked. 

Just then, the train stopped completely, making Harriet jolt with excitement. The year was about to begin. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

As they all hopped off the train with the other groups of students, now joined by Neville who carried a strange plant, as well as Ginny, Harriet couldn’t help but notice the large skeletal-like horses standing before the wagons. 

“The bloody hell?” She mumbled under her breath as she walked up closer to view the deathly looking creatures. 

“Harrie, where are you going? We’re in this carriage,” Ron posed as he pointed towards the open door to the compartment he was standing near. Harriet, meanwhile, had walked past the doors and over to the horse-like animal. It almost resembled an underfed and abused Pegasus.

“But what about the—” she wasn’t sure what to call the winged monster before her. 

Ron looked puzzled. “What about the what?”

“The— the— these!” She pointed towards the horses, careful not to get too close as she didn’t want to spook them more than they spooked her. 

“There’s nothing there, Harrie,” Hermione said slowly as she took a step closer to see if she was missing something Harriet wasn’t. 

Harriet looked even more confused than Hermione and Ron, if at all possible. “Nothing there— but— but the things! The things pulling the wagons!” She protested. 

“Harrie, the wagons are pulling themselves, like always.”

Harriet opened and closed her mouth a few times, no words escaping her parted lips before she groaned in frustration. 

Surely she had gone mad by now, especially if Ron and Hermione couldn't see the creatures. It mirrored the events of the whispering she had heard when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and the Basilisk was on the loose! And by now, she knew better than to shove this sort of thing aside, surely it had to mean something. But now wasn’t the time to make a fuss. However, what pained Harriet even more, was that she was going to spend her first night back at Hogwarts in the library. How dull. 

Just as her thoughts started to spiral, a younger Ravenclaw snapped Harriet out of her daze.

“Don’t worry, I can see them too,” the girl clad in blue robes whispered. She set down a copy of what appeared to be The Quibbler and offered her a short smile.

“You’re just as sane as I am.”

Considering the print she was reading, Harriet was anything but comforted by her words. 

Everyone Took their respective seats on the carriage, Ron, Hermione and Harriet on one side, with Ginny, Neville and the blonde on the other. Everyone with the exception of the younger girl who seemed to be floating carefree sat stiffly. They were either clutching the sleeves of their robes, their palms or in Neville’s case, his potted plant, with their backs straightened and flat up against the backrest of the wagon. 

As the wheels of the wagon began to turn and the creatures galloped along, their hooves silent against the dirt, a sharp breeze wrapped around them like a cool blanket, sending shivers up everyone’s spines. 

It was fairly dark out, especially for the hour, but considering how far up North most students had come, the darkness was expected. 

After a few long moments of silence, Hermione spoke up, wanting to kindly introduce everyone. “Everyone, this is Looney Love—” she immediately stopped herself and restarted, looking rather flushed. “Luna Lovegood,” she finished politely. 

Luna gave them all another small smile before going back to the bind papers in her hand, not saying a word. She didn’t seem bothered at all by what Hermione had said, or in this case, almost said. 

“I like your necklace,” Harriet pointed out, trying to make any sort of conversation to take her mind off of the creatures trotting away before her, even if the pendant around Luna’s neck looked absolutely ridiculous. 

“Thanks,” the girl said softly, now cupping the necklace in one hand, eyeing the ribbon that tied it together. “It keeps the nargles away.”

“Nargles?” Harriet posed, unsure of what those were. Surely they were just another creature she hadn’t heard of yet, having entered the wizarding world late. 

“Oh yes, there are lots of them around!” 

‘Well that doesn’t explain what they are’, Harriet thought to herself, but she didn’t bother to question it further. She’d just have to ask Hermione later on in the Common Room. 

As they came closer and closer to the castle, the twinkling lights of the candlelit classrooms and dorms coming into view, Harriet started to feel a little more at ease. She was just within home’s grasp. 

When the carriage came to a complete halt, everyone rose to their feet and hopped off excitedly. 

“It’s a little nippy out, isn’t it?” Hermione shivered from beside Harriet, her teeth chattering slightly as a gust of wind blew by. 

Ron, like the gentleman he was, quickly peeled off his jacket and wrapped it around her. 

“Ron, you’ll freeze!” 

“Better me than you,” he shrugged, pecking a short kiss on her forehead.

Hermione smiled warmly and turned around to bring Harriet under the cloak with her as they walked briskly to the front doors of the castle, edger for the warmth it would bring. 

As soon as the trio reached the castle walls along with the rest of the students who had dismounted the carriages, the doors swung open allowing them to take their first steps inside. 

Second and third years could be heard gasping, still having not gotten used to the sight, but so did Harriet. No matter the number of times she walked through those front gates, the view of the castle always amazed her.

Her eyes floated up to the wooden archways, stained glass window, coloured tapestries, and talking portraits that hung along the walls. It was truly magical. 

Managing to push their way through to the Great Hall, Harrie, Ron and Hermione took their seats near the middle of the Gryffindor table. Neville and Ginny followed close behind. The twins and Lee Jordan were already seated just in front of them and a rather unhappy looking Seamus Finnigan accompanied by Dean Thomas behind. 

Colin Creevey and his younger brother were trying to make their way closer to Harriet, but thank Merlin that the elder students who were pushing around to find seats of their own ended up carrying them to the end of the table with a few of the other younger students who weren’t quick enough to get good seats. 

After a few minutes of chattering, the first years were brought in, led by Professor McGonagall, and the sorting ceremony began. 

As McGonagall read down the list, each first-year would sit upon the stool shortly after their name was called and the sorting hat would be placed upon their head. Gryffindor took a surprising six new students, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff each got four, and Slytherin five. 

As the last student, Nero Zarrith took his seat with the Slytherins, Dumbledore rose to his feet from the staff table and clicked his glass gently with a fork. 

“Welcome!” He started warmly. “To those old hands,” he looked around the room, catching each student's eye, “and those newcomers, I wish you a very splendid year at Hogwarts! 

“Now, this year we have a few changes in staff. First, I would like to re-introduce Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be filling in for the Care of Magical Creatures potion while Professor Hagrid is on a short leave.”

Murmurs were heard across the Gryffindor table upon hearing Hagrid wasn’t there. An itch of worry found its way straight into Harriet's gut. She immediately knew something was wrong. 

“And for our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, please give a warm welcome to Professor Umbridge!”

There was a short round of applause and it struck Harriet that that woman had been at her trial, and convicted her of the crime. Suddenly, she didn’t feel hungry anymore. Her stomach flopped and her head started to spin. This was not good, not good at all. 

Dumbledore's words starting to ring through her ears, “Now then, our Caretaker, Mr. Filch, would like to remind you that—”

“Hem hem,” a short voice interrupted from the staff table., and Harriet jumped slightly at the sound, knowing who had hummed those short words. 

Professor Umbridge then slowly rose to her feet, and Dumbledore stopped talking, looking back at her as he tried to hide a rather shocked expression. All the students stared dumbfounded at the stage. Never, ever, had anyone ever, interrupted Dumbledore of all people! 

“Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome,” the stubby lady began in a breathy, high-pitched, and girlish tone. 

“Isn’t it lovely to be back at Hogwarts!” She smiled, revealing slightly pointed teeth. “And to have all such happy little faces looking up at me!

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll all be very good friends!” 

A few students exchanged looks at this statement, others grinned, as did Fred and George Weasley. 

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again. ‘Hem hem.’ 

Harriet inwardly cringed. 

“I’ll be her friend as long as I don’t have to borrow her cardigan,” Parvati whispered to Lavender to which they both giggled afterwards, staring at the new Professor’s bright pink blazer. 

Harriet didn’t laugh. Nor did she smile. 

“I can top that,” Fred whisper-laughed to Parvati, “I won’t be her enemy so long as she doesn’t sink those vampire teeth into my neck.” 

Still, Harriet was too lost in thought to find any of the comments amusing. 

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards of vital importance”, Umbridge went on after having cleared her throat, she sounded like a peppy businesswoman. “Although each Headmaster has brought something new to this historic school…” she stopped for a moment to nod to Dumbledore, “progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited!” 

A soft applause echoed across the room, though the only one who seemed to be clapping sincerely, although Dumbledore appeared content, was Filch who had put down his cat he had previously been cradling. 

The professor dressed all in pink took her seat once again, now allowing Dumbledore to continue. 

“As I was saying, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has wished for me to inform those new at Hogwarts, and to remind those returning students, that The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds.”

Normally, Harriet would have grinned, there hadn’t been a year yet when she hadn’t gone in the forest, but not tonight. She felt sick. 

“And I might add, journeying the halls after hours, even if escorted by a Prefect, or with an Invisibility Cloak, is forbidden.” Dumbledore seemed to turn his gaze directly towards the trio. 

“Points will be deducted for any rule-breaking, while they will be rewarded for excellence in school performance,” he finished. 

“Let the feast begin!”

__________

“So that lady, Professor Umbridge, she was at your trial?” Hermione inquired as she took a spoonful of pudding. 

“Yeah, and sure as hell didn’t want me coming back to Hogwarts,” Harriet said glumly, stirring her dessert with a spoon but not bothering to taste a single bite. She wasn’t hungry anymore. 

Ron, who was already nearly finished his pudding, grimaced. “And now she’s our Defense Professor! Bloody hell!” 

“You could say that again,” Harriet mumbled halfheartedly before finally setting her cutlery down on the table and pushing the bowl of food away. She slumped down on the table with her chin resting on crossed arms, the hood of her robes pulled up over her head to conceal herself.

“Harrie,” Hermione wined and pulled the black hood down only for Harriet to yank it right back up again. 

“M’cold,” she grumbled. 

“Harrie, please,” Hermione tried again, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“I said I was cold.”

Hermione just sighed in response this time and allowed her to sulk on her own. 

“Well Ron and I have to go get the first years lined up for bed, we’ll catch you in the common room later on, alright?”

Harriet gave her a slight nod. “Okay. I’ll be up in a bit.”

Hermione offered Harriet a small smile as Ron gently ruffled her hair before walking off with the younger students who had all already gathered towards the entrance of the Great Hall to go to their dorms. They were as excited as could be, beaming with joy under the starlight emitting from the magically enhanced ceiling. Wide grins, stretching from ear to ear, danced around the room and bright eyes twinkled alongside the moon that shone brightly down on the groups of green, blue, red, and yellow-clad students. They were home. 

Except for Harriet, it didn’t feel as such. Something was different. There was this mist, a sinking feeling, that was lingering in the air. She had a bad feeling about the coming year. And it was probably connected to that new professor of theirs.


	3. Chapter 3

Cedric’s death had spiked a tumbling of events that all seemed to cause an immense amount of pain and suffering for Harriet. Not a single night had gone by over the summer where she didn’t see his dead eyes, his blank face, his limp body, or his motionless expression. The figure of his corpse haunted her dreams. It all but seemed as though every time she closed her eyes, the flash of green light and a sudden moment of panic in Cedric’s face would return before her. She was completely and utterly terrified of what was to come in the near future. With Voldemort free and in full form, anything could occur to her from an unkindly death to a full out fledged war. 

By now, having forgotten all about the library after the night’s events and the horrid memory’s sparking through her mind, Harriet started to make her way up to the Gryffindor Common Room. 

Few students were still roaming the corridor by the time she had left the Great Hall. Most were sixth and seventh-year Ravenclaws who were already studying for exams, having left the library with stacks of books in hand, or prefects looking around for younger students who weren’t following curfew. 

As she wandered through the halls, a familiar voice dragged her out of her daze. 

“Hey, Potter!” 

Harriet inwardly groaned and stopped dead in her tracks. It was Malfoy, again. Two times he’d bothered her now and the school year had barely started yet. What a record this was. 

“Think you can just walk over whoever you want, huh? Think you can treat us the way you did? Without  _ respect _ ?” He spat, highlighting the word ‘respect’ quite clearly. 

Harry turned around and saw that Blaise was standing beside Draco with a rather large bump on his forehead from having the door of the compartment having smashed into him. Pansy was on Draco’s other side, he of course had to be in the middle, it emphasized power. 

She really wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight, so she threw the first thing that came to mind, something easy. 

“So you admit that I walk over you all?” Harriet questioned, eyeing him directly in his stupid face. “And besides,” she added, “you don’t deserve respect. As I have said before, and I quote, you’re vile, cruel, and a pathetic.”

Draco sneered, his face now hot red with anger boiling up through his core. 

Harriet rolled her eyes, of course, he didn't have a response to that. “What do you want, an apology? Because that’s not going to happen. That scene on the train, that was an accident.”

“I’m not here for an apology,” Draco said in a threatening tone, practically fuming now.

“Then what do you want, me to kiss his head better? Because if so, he should be the one asking himself, not you. Or is Blaise just too scared now? She mocked. “Is he afraid of the little wee girl?” 

Draco, Blaise, and a pug-faced Pansy, immediately pulled out their wands, pointing them directly at Harriet. 

“Shut it, Potter.”

Harriet eyed them carefully and whipped out a wand to deflect a curse just as she saw Blaise’s lips move to recite the spell. 

“That’s twice in a day, Zabini,” Harriet chuckled, her spirits suddenly raised the tiniest bit. “I think you’re losing your touch.”

Without another word, both Pansy and Draco shot jinxes as Harriet to which she quickly jumped out of the way, knowing she’d never be able to deflect them both before they hit her. 

“Three against one, very brave of you,” she spoke wickedly, hiding her nerves quite professionally before deciding to strike herself, slashing the air to send a rather large jinx at the three of them. 

Before any of the Slytherins could deflect the spell, Umbridge did so herself with a simple flick of the wand. 

“Wand away, Miss Potter,” she pepped. 

Huffing, Harriet pocketed her wand and waited for Draco and his gang to do the same. They didn’t. 

“I think 20 points from Gryffindor should suffice as a punishment,” the Professor said, her voice anything but subdued. 

“And what about Slytherin?” Harriet questioned when she didn’t discipline the others. 

“Why self-defence isn’t a crime! I shouldn’t see why they should be disciplined.”

“Self-defence?!” Harriet shouted. “They started it!”   
  
“Quiet, Miss Potter, or I will have to double the points I’ve already taken from your house.”

Harriet had to bite her lip to keep from blurting out another statement as Draco, Pansy, and Blaise simply grinned from ear to ear. Pansy even had the audacity to stick her tongue out at Harriet when Umbridge’s back was turned the other way. Of course, even had the stubby lady seen the act, she probably would have condoned it. 

“Might I ask what you were thinking, Miss Potter? Duelling the hallway is a serious obstruction to school edicate and of course, the rules!”

“Like I said, they started it,” she replied simply. 

“There is no need to lie, Miss Potter. Now, tell me the truth or I will have to turn to the victim for the real story here!”

“I told you!” Harriet started to panic now, Malfoy would bend the story so far she’d never see daylight again. “It was self-defence! Zabini shot the first jinx!”   
  
“Now that is very unlikely,” Umbridge said. And also such a pity, Miss Potter. I was hoping you might be honest, but I suppose a liar remains a liar. They see no change.”   
  
“I’m not lying!” Harriet screamed this time. 

“I will not be spoken to as such!” Umbridge breathed darkly. “Detention, tomorrow night, six o’clock, my office.”

“De-detention?! I— But I— But I didn’t do anything!”   
  
“Shall I extend it to two nights?”   
  
“What?! No! No!”

“Then off to bed with you.”

Harriet just stood there, completely astounded by what was happening. This had to be the worst night back at Hogwarts yet, it even beat out the tale of Whomping Willow.

“I’m sorry, did you not hear me? I said, off to bed! Chop chop!” Umbridge clapped her hands and pointed towards the staircase that led to the Gryffindor Tower as if Harriet was a dog. 

Begrudgingly, having to refrain from saying anything more, Harriet turned around and walked off to the Common Room, somewhere she’d actually be safe, or so she thought. 

Moping past portraits upon portraits, all of them shooing her off the bed as Umbridge had, only in much more graceful and content attitudes that didn’t send her shivers up her spine, or bile rising up her esophagus making her feel as though she’d puke, Harriet was only feeling worse than before. 

Not only was Cedric now on her mind, but she’d made a bad impression on a bad professor, meaning her year might as well have been composed of classes with Snape by now, and to add to that, she had detention on the second night back at school, and she’d also lost 40 points for Gryffindor before they even had the chance to earn any. Hermione would have her head. 

“Treacle Tart,” she sighed as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. The door swung open seconds later and she scampered in, ready for bed. Maybe if she slept things off she’d feel better in the morning.

She didn’t see Hermione anywhere in the lounge but Ron was over by the fire having a game of wizards chess with Ginny, who was losing very badly. 

“Hey, Harrie.” Dean offered her a smile as she walked by. 

“Hey, Dean.” She spoke sadly. “How was your summer?” Harriet said, trying to be nice. 

“Alright,” he shrugged, “better than Seamus’.”

“Oh?” She inquired, looking over the Seamus who was sitting across from Dean on the couches. 

“Yeah, my parents didn’t want me coming back to Hogwarts you see,” Seamus started, looking rather upset. 

“Really? Why?” Harriet asked, she couldn’t imagine why his parents would be against him coming back to school for the year. 

“Huh, let’s see…” he said angrily. “Because of you.” Seamus finished simply, not looking bothered at all about what he just said to her. 

“Me? What— why me?”

“The Daily Profit’s been saying a lot of things about ya’ Harrie. You and Dumbledore as well.”

“What, and your mum believes them?”

“Well, no one was there the night Cedric died.”

By now the entirety of the Common Room was looking in on the confrontation, listening intently to the heated conversation the two were having. 

“Well then I guess you should go read the Profit like your stupid mother, it’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!” Seamus spat.

“I’ll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar!”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going over here?” Ron asked as he carefully pulled Harriet a bit further away from Seamus. 

“She’s mad is what’s going on!” Seamus barked. “Do you believe the rubbish that’s coming out about You Know Who?”

“Yeah, I do,” Ron said simply, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder to comfort her. “Now, has anyone else got a problem with Harrie?” 

No one from across the room spoke up. “Good,” he finished and steered her away from the crowd so she could make her up to her dorm. 

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Harriet mumbled and started climbing the stairs.

“Harrie?”

She stopped and turned around on the staircase. 

“Are you sure?” Ron asked again, wanting to make sure. 

“I said I was fine, Ron!” Harry yelled, looking quite distraught, 

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of how to respond to her outburst. “A-alright. Just checking up on you…”

Harriet shook her head. “What? Be-because I’m mentally unstable? Because I need help?!”

Ron looked down at his feet and bit his lip. “Because you’re my friend,” he answered gently. 

Harriet’s eyes widened and she suddenly realized how rude she had been. “Ron— I— I’m so sorry! Please—”

“Harrie, it’s okay,” he offered her a small smile, “just go to bed, I'll see you in the morning.”

Harriet nodded and smiled back before turning around and walking the rest of the way to the rounded staircase to the 5th level where the dorm was. 

Only Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender were there, the others must have still been down in the Common Room. 

Parvati was talking with Lavender on her four-poster, the drapes half-closed, while Hermione sat on her own bed reading a book, as per usual. 

Hermione looked up upon noticing Harriet walk in. “`You alright, Harrie?” She posed. 

“Yup,” Harrie choked back, starting to feel overwhelmed by everything. 

Hermione set her book down and swung her feet over the side of the bed to get up. “No, you’re not…” She whispered.

“Hermione, please, just leave me alone. Please,” Harriet asked kindly as she started to cry. “I— I just want to sleep.”

“O—okay,” Hermione said worriedly and took a step back. “If you ever need to talk…”

“Thanks.” Harriet nodded and swooped past her to her bed where she crawled under the blankets without even bother to change. 

Pulling the drapes completely closed, she laid down on the bed and started to cry. 

__________

_ Darkness engulfed her mind.  _

_ Everything was black.  _

_ Everything.  _

_ “Kill the spare,” a voice sang.  _

_ Harriet started to tremble on the spot, sweat stripping down her back leaving an icy cold sensation after it dried. She was cold to the bone.  _

_ Through the darkness, a flash of green light emerged, striking a body that then collapsed to the ground in a heap.  _

_ Harriet found herself looking down, despite the voice telling her not to, to look away. She didn’t want to see his dead body again. But she couldn’t control the strength pushing her head towards the floor. She tried shutting her eyes, but even with them closed, Cedric’s face came into view.  _

_ A blood-curdling scream tore through her lungs, the strength of the screech setting her throat on fire.  _

_ He was gone.  _

_ He was dead.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rember to give kudos, make bookmarks, and leave comments especially!


	4. Chapter 4

“Harrie!” Hermione screeched and ran over to Harriet’s four-poster to shake her awake. “Harrie, it’s just a dream! It’s okay! You’re safe!” She said frantically. 

Harriet simply curled up in a ball and shook on the spot, still dead asleep. Her body was quivering like mad as tears ran down her cheeks uncontrollably. Her hair was balled in a mess against the pillow and her knuckles were turned white from how hard she was holding onto the sheets. 

As she continued to scream in terror, the other girls woke up in a fright and immediately went for their wands which sat at their bedside tables, although they quickly realized there was nothing to fend off, it was only Harriet having another nightmare, just like at the end of last year. 

“Hermione, would you wake her up! I’m trying to get some bloody sleep!” Lavender huffed rather unkindly. 

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” Hermione said frantically, still trying to shake Harriet awake. 

“Just hurry it up, I’m tired!”

Parvati got up to join Hermione. “Don’t be so self-centred, Lav, she’s hurting,” she mentioned. 

“Well so is my head!” Lavender crossed her arms looking extremely frustrated for being woken up at this ungodly hour of the morning. 

“Would you shut it!” Hermione added as she turned around for a moment to face Lavender while Parvati tried to help Harriet. 

Almost instantaneously, Harriet’s eyes shot open, wide, bloodshot and full of panic. 

Her breaths immediately quickened in pace, she was unable to control her breathing to any extent whatsoever. Her hands trembled as she tried to hold onto the sheets, pulling them up close to her chin as if to hide herself. Tears continued making their way down her cheeks, flowing down past her lips and chin and falling to the bedspread. She sniffed and hiccuped unevenly as Hermione rubbed her back in attempts to soothe her as much as possible. Parvati even grabbed a few tissues for her, though Harriet was unable to hold them as her hands were clenched too roughly and trembling too quickly. One of the other girls went to light a few candles, making it easier to see since they were only using their wands as a light source. Lavender stayed in bed, still pouting about losing her precious beauty sleep on the first night. 

Harriet kept her eyes open, terrified that if she closed them, the scene she just saw would unfold again. She was scared she’d see Cedric’s face somewhere before her. She was terrified of watching the shot of green light emitted from Wormtail’s wand to cast itself upon Cedric. She didn’t want to watch him die, not again. 

“Harrie, you can close your eyes, it’s okay, you can sleep,” Hermione said softly, still rubbing circles along her friend’s lower back. 

Harriet simply shook her head as she curled into Hermione’s embrace. “I’ll see him,” she whispered faintly, under her breath. “I’ll see his face…”

“Then look at me,” she said kindly. “It’s alright, Harriet.”   
  


“No, it’s not! He’s dead! He’s fucking dead and it’s all my fault!” Harriet screamed, now shivering even more within Hermione’s grasp. 

“Harriet, listen to me very carefully,” Hermione started in a stern yet gentle tone, “Cedric’s death is not on your hands, it’s on You Know Who’s. You did not kill him. You tried to save him.”

“And I failed! I failed Hermione!”

“You did the best you could,” she spoke carefully. 

“And it wasn’t good enough…” 

Hermione carefully wiped away Harriet’s tears with her thumb and tightened her grasp around her before kissing the side of her head. 

They sat in silence for what felt like hours. By now, Lavender had fallen back asleep, Parvati had gone back to her own bed, giving the two friends some space, and the other girl, a transfer from Ilvermony, the one who had lit the candles that were by now almost fallen to their last whisps, had also gone to her respective four-poster to rest. All was silent except for the light rain pelting against the window and Hermione’s light humming. 

“I’m sorry,” Harriet finally spoke up, still snuggled up against Hermione’s side. 

“For what?” She asked curiously. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m a fucking burden, to you. To Ron.” She stopped for a moment. “To everyone, actually,” Harriet corrected herself. 

“Harriet Lily Potter, you are not a burden,” Hemione said firmly. “No to me, not to Ron, not to anyone. We all love you.”

Harriet shook her head. “Most people hate me,” she mumbled sadly. “I’m ‘The Girl Who Lies’, remember?”

“Harrie, the prophet doesn’t know what they're talking about. Fudge is just… he’s got it through his head that You Know Who isn’t back, and I doubt anything but seeing him in real life will change that. I’m sorry.” 

Harriet nodded even though she didn’t believe it, it was in her head that the world was against her. 

Deciding the end of the conversation there, she pulled the comforter up around her and Hemione. 

“Stay with me tonight?” She asked hopefully. 

“Of course,” Hermione smiled warmly and cozied in next to her before falling fast asleep. 

__________

In the morning, Harriet woke up to Hermione rattling on her again. 

“We’re going to be late for the first day of class, Harrie!” She said looking quite stressed. “I woke you up an hour ago, you said you’d come down for breakfast!”

“I did?” Harriet yawned, not remembering any of it at all. 

“Yes! I just came back up because you never came to the Great Hall! Now get dressed, quickly! It’s our OWL year, we can’t afford to miss any classes!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Harriet murmured, rolling out of bed only to realize she was already in clothes from the day before. 

“Change,” Hermione said as she started packing dozens of books in her bag. 

Harriet rolled her eyes and shuffled through her trunk to find clean robes. 

“About last night,” she started slowly, now standing up with a new skirt and blouse in hand after closing her trunk.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione finished with a soft smile. 

Harriet offered her a warm smile back. “Thanks.”

Trotting over to the washroom to have a brisk shower before dressing, Harriet stopped to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still a little puffy from last night and her hair looked like a rats nest from having tossed and turned so much in bed. She would definitely need a little cover-up today to hide the bags under her eyes. 

Harriet let out a short sigh before undressing and hopping under the warm water. After soaping up and rinsing herself off, she untangled her hair and stood under the warm water for a few moments. The pelting droplets fell over her back, soothing her a bit since she was still shaken from the nightmare. She closed her eyes to take a breath, letting the moment last for what she prayed would be longer than what it turned out to be since Hermione started to rush her again. 

“Harrie! Hurry up!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Harriet mumbled as she rolled her eyes and shook her slightly as well. “I’m coming.”

“Then turn off the water!”

Chuckling to herself, Harriet spun the shower knob down to off and used a quick charm to dry herself. Gathering her clothes, she threw them on before straightening out her red and gold striped tie and pulling up her matching socks over her knees. She fixed her face up a little, dabbing concealer under her eyes as well as adding a touch of mascara to her lashes. She left her brows and lips bare and walked out of the bathroom to join Hermione who had already packed her satchel for her. 

“Your books are organized by order of class, we start with defence,” she said happily. 

Harriet internally groaned, or at least she thought she did because Hermione obviously heard her. 

“It’s just one period, we can manage.”

“Maybe you can, I, however, cannot.”

“Harrie, you know you have to.”

“I know,” she sighed heavily, already looking sour. 

“C’mon,” Hermione held out her hand, “I’ll sit next to you.”

Reluctantly, Harriet took her hand in hers and the two girls made their way down to the Common Room where Ron was waiting. 

“About time!” He said as he got up from one of the couches to join them. “What took so long?”

“Makeup.”

“Makeup? What do you need that for?”

Hermione laughed as Harriet cracked a small smile. 

“Oh, Ronald.”

“What? I’m serious! You both look perfect without it! Naked faces are the best faces!”

Harriet started to laugh now too. 

“Remind me to talk to you whenever I feel the need to pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower,” Harriet joked. 

“Don’t say that!” Hermione spoke sadly, she looked a little taken aback and rather upset Harriet had said that.

“I was only joking, Hermione…”

“I don’t care, I don’t like it when you and Ron say that kind of stuff.”

“Alright,” Harriet said, biting her lip, now feeling bad, “it erm… it won’t happen again.”

Hermione smiled.“Thanks.”

As she and Ron went off into another deep conversation about school and how he had to pull his own weight this year, Harriet zoned out, too preoccupied thinking about Umbridge to care about having to do her own essay’s this year. 

When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan from the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head.

“She looks like a bloody stuffed animal,” Ron muttered to Harriet and Hermione as they took their seats. 

Harriet was rather reminded of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.

Once everyone was settled in their seats, the door shut with a down bang and the class was completely silent. Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

“Well, good morning!” she said warmly. 

A few people mumbled 'good morning' in reply.

“Tut, tut,” said Professor Umbridge. “That won't do, now, will it? I would like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted back at her as if they were little children. 

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.” 

The class exchanged gloomy looks, this surely wouldn’t sit well. 

Reluctantly, Harriet shovelled her wand away in her back and took out ink, parchment, and a quill to take notes with. 

Ron, who realized he didn’t have a quill, pulled on Hermione’s hair. “Hermione,” he whispered under his breath. “I need—”

“Here,” Hermione quickly passed him an extra quill before he even finished his sentence. It was like she could read his mind. ‘Maybe she should have stayed in divination’ Harriet thought to herself. 

Their professor pulled out a short and stubby wand before tapping the blackboard where words appeared at once:

_ Defence Against the Dark Arts _

_ A Return to Basic Principles _

  
  


“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?” Stated Professor Umbridge, clasping her hands neatly in front of her like a polite schoolgirl.

“The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.

“You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified.

We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

  
  


She tapped the board again and the first message disappeared just as Harriet started writing only for a second to appear. She quickly scratched out what was above and started on a fresh page. 

_ Course Aims: _

_ 1.Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. _

_ 2.Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used _

_ 3.Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use. _

  
  


The next couple of minutes were filled with the scratching of quills on parchment as students wrote down Professor Umbridge’s course aims.

“Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?” She asked the class once they all had nearly finished the note. 

A dull murmur echoed throughout the classroom. 

“I think we'll try that again,” said Professor Umbridge. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge". So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang through the room. Harriet gritted her teeth as she spoke, hating on her even more than before. 

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk.”

Harriet turned to page five of her copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read the desperately dull pages. It was perhaps even worse than listening to Professor Binns. 

She felt her concentration sliding away from her. She had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Sighing, she looked next to her where Hermione sat, she had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory.

She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air, waiting to ask a question. 

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” Professor Umbridge asked Hermione. 

“Not about the chapter, no.”

“Well, we're reading just now,” said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth in a wicked smile, just like last night. “If you have other inquiries we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I've got a query about your course aims,” Hermione chirped.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. “And your name is?”

“Hermione Granger,”

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,” their Professor said in mock sweetness. 

“Well, I don't,” said Hermione bluntly. “There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells.”

“Using defensive spells,” Professor Umbridge repeated with a short laugh, “why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?

“We're not going to use magic?” Ron exclaimed loudly, disrupting Umbridge so much so she started off at him. 

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.—?”

“Weasley,” said Ron, now raising his hand into the air. 

Professor Umbridge smiled still more widely before turning her back on him to face Hermione who had raised her hand again.

“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes. Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?”

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” Asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice. 

“No, of course not, but—”

“Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is,” she exclaimed joyfully. “ Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”

“What use is that?” Said Harriet loudly. “If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a—”

“Hand, Miss Potter!” Professor Umbridge sang in bittersweetness.

Biting her lip, Harriet raised her fist in the air.

Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from her, but now several other people had their hands up, too.

“And your name is?” Professor Umbridge asked.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Well, Mr. Thomas?” She posed, looking rather annoyed. 

“Well, it's like Harriet said, isn't it?” Said Dean. “If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free.”

“I repeat,” said Professor Umbridge, “do you expect to be attacked during my classes?”

“No, but—”

“I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,”' she started over him and crossed her arms, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

“If you mean Professor Lupin,” Dean piped up angrily, “he was the best Professor we ever—”

“Hand, Mr. Thomas!” Professor Umbridge screeched. “As I was saying—you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—”

“No we haven't,” Harriet said, “we just—”

“Your hand is not up, Miss Potter!”

Harriet put up her hand only for Professor Umbridge to turn away from her.

“It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you.”

“Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?” Ron uttered. 

“Your hand is not up, Mr. Weasley!” Said Professor Umbridge. “Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?” their Professor added, staring at the Gryffindor transfer, Alina, whose hand had just shot up as well.

“Alina Temple, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL?

Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?'’

“Miss Temple, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions.”

“Without ever practising them beforehand?” Alina gasped. “Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”

“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough—”

“And what good is theory going to be in the real world?” Harriet asked, her hand raised high in the air. 

Professor Umbridge looked up. “This is school, Miss Potter, not the real world,” she said softly but dangerously, looking like she might just burst out in anger.

“So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?”

“There is nothing waiting out there, Miss Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” Harriet raised her voice, finally letting off some steam that had been building up since the hearing. 

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” enquired Professor Umbridge, her voice honeyed over to sound endearing when really she was just mocking her students. 

“Hmm, let's think … I don’t know…” Harriet said sarcastically. “Maybe… Lord Voldemort?”

Umbridge nearly snapped the quill she was holding upon hearing that name and a few students gasped while others screeched in horror. Neville just about slid off his chair.    
  


“10 points from Gryffindor!” Professor Umbridge retaliated. “Now let me make this quite plain, you all have been told that a certain dar wizard has returned from the dead—”

“Voldemort never died to begin with,” Harriet spat.

“Another 10 points from Gryffindor !” Professor Umbridge yelled. “Now, as I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark Wizard is at large once again. THIS. IS. A. LIE.”

“It’s not a lie!” Harriet screamed and rose out of her seat, the chair toppling to the side as she did so. “I saw him! I fought him!”

“Another detention Miss Potter!” Their Professor fumed. “Two nights, my office.”

“No! I will not let you convince my peers that there is no danger when Cedric Diggory was KILLED!”

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident —”

“No, it wasn’t! It was bloody murder! Voldemort killed him! He fucking killed him right before my eyes! He—”

“MISS POTTER!” Professor Umbridge pepped even more loudly than before causing some students to shudder. “I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO AS SUCH!”

“WELL NEITHER WILL I!” Harriet barked back angrily. “Good day!” She said slightly more calmly, though still gritting her teeth rather tensely before packing her bag and ditching class entirely. 

  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 5-8 have been deleted for re-writing!  
> Drarry will now enter later on in the fic.  
> If you have previously read to chapter 8, feel free to go back to my newly written chapters [starting at 5] to catch up!  
> Sorry for any inconveniences.  
> Cheers,  
> Nayra

The last thing Harriet heard as she fled the class was Umbridge calling her back, saying her behaviour was absolutely unacceptable and that she had to listen to her superiors. 

As she stalked down the corridor, the sound of the classroom door slamming shut behind her and echoing up across the ceiling, she noticed Peeves was floating by the stairwell juggling a few inkwells in hand. He was a rather small poltergeist with a wide mouth, tall laced boots, and a blue and gold joker's hat perched atop his head. 

“Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!” Peeves sang, delighted to have company. He let the inkwells he had been juggling crash to the ground causing the black liquid to spray all over the walls. 

Harriet immediately jumped back with a snarl, not wanting to ruin her new robes. “Get out of it, Peeves,” she said rather rudely. 

“Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky,” Peeves cracked, following Harriet along the corridor, leering as he zoomed along above her. “What is it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in—” Peeves blew a gigantic raspberry “— tongues?”

“I said, leave me ALONE!” Harriet shouted at him and ran down a few flights of stairs to get away, but he merely slid down the banister to follow her and floated quickly along the hall to catch up. 

“Oh, most think she's barking, the potty wee lad,

“But some are more kindly and think she's just sad,

“But Peevesy knows better and says that she's just mad—”

Harriet screeched this time. “SHUT UP!”

“Potter!” A voice snapped from behind her. 

“WHAT?” She barked, whirling around only to see none other than Severs Snape right behind her. 

“Don’t, use that tone, on me,” Snape spoke slowly, in his usual grim tone, though it didn’t sound quite as dreadful as usual to her ears. 

Still, Harriet just stared wide-eyed at the man, too stunned at what she had just done to apologize. Had she known it was Snape calling her, she wouldn’t have lashed out like that. 

“I take your silence as an apology,” he said begrudgingly. “Now, what might a student such as yourself be doing roaming the halls at this hour, don’t you have class to attend?”

“Not anymore,” Harriet mumbled. 

“And just what, is that supposed to mean?”

“I left,” she said simply. 

“You… left…” Snape curled his tongue and motioned for her to follow him. “My office, now.”

Suppressing a long groan, Harriet reluctantly followed the professor into his office. The door shut as Snape slashed his wand through the air and he took his seat behind his desk. 

Harriet looked around, amazed at all the potions and bottles filled with various sorts of things, things she had never seen before like pixie wings, troll nails, and even dwarf hairs. “What’re those?” She asked, pointing to a rather large container filled with what looked like pieces of a snake's skin. 

“Sit, down,” Snape demanded. 

Harriet immediately took a seat across from him and shut her mouth. 

“Those are dragon scales,” he said, actually looking somewhat engaged for once. “Now, tell me, did you have class with Professor Umbridge?”

“How did you know?” Harriet asked quietly.

“Let's just say, I had a hunch, hmm?” Said Snape in what Harriet’s actually found to be a soft tone. “Why did you leave?” He posed a little more harshly this time. 

Harriet just shrugged, she didn’t want to talk poorly about another professor in front of a teacher.

“You don’t know why you left?” Snape hummed darkly, raising a brow. 

“I do,” Harriet said quickly, “I just… I…”

“You what?

“I don’t want to speak poorly about her in front of you,” she said quietly, looking down at her clasped hands. 

“I see…” he mused. “Well, that sets quite a tone, does it not?”

“I suppose…” Harriet uddered slowly. She couldn’t understand why he was being so nice all of a sudden.

“Harriet,” he said leaning forwards, “go take a rest in your dorm, it looks like you need it.”

Harriet’s jaw almost dropped. 

Had he just told her to skip class? Had he actually just called her by her real name? 

“You— you want to— to—” she stuttered

“Rest, yes,” Snape nodded. 

“I’m not in trouble? You’re not going to give me a detention?” She asked, unsure of why she wasn’t just packing her bags and leaving. Now she was just asking for it. 

“No.” Was all he said in response, his face completely blank, unable to be read. 

Harriet sat there completely flabbergasted for another few moments before slowly rising out of her seat and grabbing her satchel, still staring at him in complete shock.

Surely there had to be some catch, there was no way she was going to get off this easy with Snape of all people! But as she reached the door, he simply offered her a nod and let her walk out without any consequences. 

As Harriet closed the door behind her, she stood for a few moments against the wall, unsure of what had just happened, it hadn’t sunk through yet. 

“Is Potty Wotter in trouble wouble?” Peeves sang as he floated around her head, appearing as though he was dancing in mid-air. 

“No,” she spoke softly, still unable to understand anything that had just occurred. 

“NO!” The poltergeist gasps. “Don’t lie!” He tutted, slightly similar to Umbridge. “Let Peevesy in on the secrets!”

“There is no secret, nothing happened. He told me to go rest.”

“Lies! Lies! Lies! Potty Wee Potter telling lies upon lies!” Peeves started to sign again, bouncing up and down in the air as he started to float away. “Lies and lies! She tells lies!” 

Harriet rolled her eyes and let out a soft sigh before going the opposite way, directly back to her Common Room, she wasn't about to pass up the offer of a free ticket out of class, even if it was her OWL year. 

The way she was walking just so happened to be the long way back to Gryffindor Tower, but if it meant not running into Peeves again, it was worth it and time well spent. 

__________

That night at 6 o’clock, Harriet tagged herself down to Umrbdige’s office for her first detention, the one she had received the night before for ‘duelling in the hallway’. 

Knocking flatley on the door with the palm on her hand, Professor Umbridge answered with a very unpleasant smile. “Good evening dear,” she said warmly, “come in and take a seat.”

Harriet followed her motioned hand to a chair seated across from the teacher’s desk where a blank piece of parchment rested, apparently waiting for her. 

“You will be doing some lines for me tonight, Miss Potter,” Professor Umbridge quipped in an upbeat fashion. 

‘Well at least it’s not cleaning the bedpans in the Hospital Wing,’ Harriet thought to herself. 

She reached down to open her bag, sorting through the mess to find a quill to write with. 

“Oh no no no Miss Potter,” Professor Umbridge said, shaking her head, “you’re going to be using a rather special quill of mine.”

Sighing, Harriet dumped her bag back on the floor and took a seat across from her Professor where a quill, now too, was awaiting her. 

“I want you to write ‘ _ I must not tell lies _ ’.”

“How many times?” Harriet asked sharply. 

“Let's just say, for as long as it takes the message to  _ sink in _ . Off you go.”

Harriet rolled her eyes and looked down at the parchment and quill, taking it in hand. “You haven’t given me any ink,” she stated flatly. 

“Oh you won’t need ink with this quill,” said Umbridge with a hint of a laugh laced in her tone. 

‘Whatever’, Harriet thought to herself as she touched the quill to the parchment, leaving a dot of red ink. Frowning at the colour, she began to write her lines across the sheet wincing in pain as she did so. After she finished the first line, Harriet let out a short gasp and peered down at the back of her hand. There, etched into the skin like thin slices from a scalpel, rested the words  _ ‘I must not tell lies’ _ , written exactly in her handwriting. 

Harriet stared at the letters in disturbance as the skin slowly peeled itself back over top, leaving her hand just as smooth as before, but slightly red.

Umbridge was watching her intently, probably hoping for some large blowout of a reaction.

“Yes?” She asked Harriet in a sweet voice, looking extremely hopeful with her crooked smile.

Deciding she didn’t want to give her any satisfaction Harriet shook her head. “Nothing.” 

She looked back down at the parchment and started to write again, a little more quickly this time so as to end the searing pain across her hand as soon as possible. 

Continuing to gasp in extreme pain, Harriet wrote furiously on the parchment, digging the quill into the paper as roughly as possible to out her anger, but it only ripped her hand apart even more. The wounds eventually stopped healing completely, leaving the blood seeping down her figure tips and onto the parchment in a gooey red mess. The crimson liquid almost covered the roll entirely, either in a pool of blood or in dark red letters scratched along the page. 

Darkness soon fell outside the window, but Harriet didn’t act to leave, she didn’t even check the clock perched on the wall. She knew Umbridge was eyeing her for any signs of weakness, and she wasn’t about to show any. 

After what seemed like hours, Professor Umbridge called her over. 

Thankful for the break, Harriet got up and walked over to her, waiting for further instructions. 

“Hand,” she said firmly as Harriet swept out her bloodied hand to show her. The liquid was now sticky and dried to her skin, though the engraving was still as clear as day. She winced as Umbridge touched the cuts. 

“Tut, tut, I don’t think the message has sunk in yet. I suppose tomorrow evening will show its true colours. You may go.”

Harriet didn’t say a word as she turned around and left the room. It was well past midnight and the corridors were bare, no one was awake, or so she thought. As soon as she thought was far enough from Umbridge's office that she thought she wouldn’t hear her run, Harriet broke out in a sprint. 

As she was making her way down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, Harriet suddenly found herself tumbling across the floor before skidding to a stop near the wall. 

“Ha! Trip jink, Potter!” The voice of what could only be Draco Malfoy laughed. 

Harriet groaned in pain, both from the fall and from her bloodied hand before sitting up to lean against a nearby suit of armour. She was close to tears at this point, both from the agony spiking across her reddened skin and from pure exhaustion. 

“Aw, are you gonna cry?” Pansy, who accompanied Draco, laughed maliciously. “You gonna cry, Potter? Should I get your mum for you?” She joked dangerously. “Oh no, I can’t, because she’s dead!

“Let's take her in Draco, she’s out of bed after hours.”

“So are you,” Harriet mumbled, still not bothering to move, she didn’t have the willpower nor the energy. 

“I will have you know that  _ we are _ prefects, whereas  _ you are _ not,” said Pansy in a smug tone. “C’mon Draco, let’s take her to Umbridge!”

Slowly, Harriet started towards her wand which had only toppled a few feet away while Pansy and Draco started arguing about where to take her for the best punishment. 

“Why not Snape? He’s our head of house.” Draco mentioned. “Umbridge only makes students do lines, Snape’ll make her clean bedpans for something.”

Harriet kept inching towards her wand, and when she was only a few inches away, she threw herself forwards to grab it and immediately shot two jinxes at Pansy and Draco without so much as looking their way, she just hoped she had managed to hit them. 

Scrambling to her feet, Harriet started to run back to Gryffindor Tower like mad, not so much as bothering to even look behind her to see if she was being followed. 

“GET HER!” Harriet heard Pansy’s scream echo throughout the corridor and she started to sprint harder, quickening her pace as much as possible. 

“SHE’S GETTING AWAY!”

“Damn right I am you pug-faced snot,” Harriet breathed as she finally reached the Fat Lady. 

“Mimbulus Mimbletonia!” Harriet said of breath, taking heaving puffs as she rested her hands on her knees waiting for the door to open. 

“THERE SHE IS!” Pansy yelled, having rounded the corner to see Harriet scooting through the hole in the wall. 

“DAMN YOU, MALFOY!” Harriet listened against the now-closed door to Pansy who was clearly hitting Draco over and over again. “We could have gotten her if you weren’t so slow!”

As Harriet lifted herself up onto her tippy toes to peer through the peephole, she could have sworn she saw Draco smile after Pansy had walked off, having finished hitting him. 

“Stay safe, Potter,” Draco whispered, not knowing Harriet was listening carefully on the other side of the door. 

__________

The next morning, Harriet was nearly asleep on the couch as she and Hermione as they waited for Ron to come down so they could have breakfast together. 

“Harrie! Wake up!” Hermione nudged her and Harriet shot awake instantaneously. “How late did Umbridge even keep you?”

“D’know,” Harriet mumbled and rubbed her eyes as Ron came trotting down the stairs. 

Hermione got up, dragging Harriet with her to join Ron at the bottom of the staircase, where he just had to blurt out exactly what was on his mind. 

“Harrie, you look awful! OUCH!” He whined as Hermione pinched his arm, rubbing the now sore spot near his shoulder.

“Great,” Harriet mumbled with a sigh. “Just great. That’s exactly what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.”

“Ron was only joking.  _ Right, Ronald _ ?” She said, her voice stern. 

“Erm… right, I was just joking, you look great!”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “C’mon, let's just go to breakfast.” 

“Good, I'm starved!” Ron said gleefully and trotted in front of the portrait. 

“What the— “ Hermione gasped as she pulled down a sheet of paper from the Gryffindor Common Room bulletin board. Ron groaned and waltzed back over to Harriet who had stopped beside Hermione. “Can we go? I’m hungry!”

“Just hold on a second, Ron,” Hermione said grimly as she took the sheet over to Fred and George who were packing up a box full of their testing candies. 

“And just what, is this?” She seethed, holding up the paper for them to read. 

“That’s our sign up sheet!” George exclaimed happily.

“Yeah,” Fred went on, “just put it up this morning! 

“You can’t put this on the bulletin board!” Hermione told them. “It’s for academic purposes! 

“This is academic!” George retaliated. 

“It most certainly is not!” Hermione shot back. 

“Sure it is!” Fred voiced. “It’s for research on our candies! If that’s not academic, I don’t know what is!”

“Well whatever it is, you can’t put it on the board.”

“Says who?” They both asked simultaneously. 

“Says me.”

“And just what authority do you have over us?

“I will have you know that Ron and I are prefects!”

“Ronikins,” Fred asked, looking over at his younger brother, “do you have a problem with the sign-up sheet being up there?” 

Ron’s face went red and he looked between the twins and Hermione a few times before shaking his head. “Not really,” he admitted. 

“RONALD!” Hermione screeched. 

“The man said he doesn’t have a problem, so he doesn't have a problem!” Fred said as he patted Ron on the back and stuck the piece of cardstock back up on the wall.

“You’re supposed to support me!” Hermione hissed to Ron as the twins walked away. 

“Sorry…” he muttered. “But can we eat now? My stomach hurts.”

Good,” said Hermione before turning her back on him and walking out the portrait hole. 

_________

Breakfast in the Great Hall that morning was anything but a pleasant experience for Harriet. The news about her shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts’ standards. She heard whispers all around him as she sat eating between Ron and Hermione. But the strange thing was, no one that was whispered was nervous about her overhearing them. On the contrary, it seemed as though they wanted her to listen in on their conversations. 

“She says she saw Cedric Diggory get murdered …”

“She reckons she duelled with You-Know-Who …”

“Come off it …”

“Who does she think she’s kidding?”

“Pur- _ lease _ …”

“What I don’t get,” said Harriet in a shaking voice, laying her knife and fork down on the table as her hands were trembling too much to hold them steady, “is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them …”

“The thing is, Harry, I’m not sure they did,” Hermione said sadly. 

“What d’you mean, you’re not sure they believed Dumbledore?” Harriet asked Hermione as she looked around her, seeing heads in all directions and turned her way. 

“Look, you don’t understand what it was like after it happened,” she started quietly. “You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric’s dead body … none of us saw what happened in the maze … we just had Dumbledore’s word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you.”

“Which is the truth!” Harriet exclaimed rather loudly.

“I know it is, Harrie, so will you  _ please _ stop biting my head off?” said Hermione wearily. “It’s just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you’re a nutcase and Dumbledore’s going senile!”

“Well thanks, I suppose I’m just a nutcase to you all then,” Harriet said darkly, looking quite upset. 

“Harrie, that’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“I think I know what you meant, Hermione,” Harriet stated and scooted her seat back before picking up her bag. “I’ll catch you both later.”

As she walked out the Great Hall, still with all heads turned her way, Angelina Johnson called after her. 

“Remember Quidditch practice tonight, Harrie!” 

“Oh, I erm… I have detention with Umbridge… sorry.”

“Well get out of it, this is the first practice of the year! You can’t miss it!”

“Yeah. I— I’ll try my best.”

“Good,” the older girl replied before scooting off, presumably to eat. 

Harriet continued down the hall, hiccuping and holding back tears. Her first two days back had felt like a week, she already had two detentions, an entire foot essay to write for Professor Binns on the origins of witchcraft, a months journal for Trelawney, a paper for Snape on the properties of moonstones, her OWL’s to worry about, and on top of it all, the entire school was hating on her. It was at times like this when she wished she were as organized as Hermione, at least that would help solve a few of her problems. If only… 

__________

“Shall we do Snape’s stuff first?” said Ron, dipping his quill into his ink before writing ‘“ _ The properties … of moonstone … and its uses … in potion-making …” _ ’. He underlined the title, then looked up Hermione for help.

“So, what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?”

But Hermione wasn’t listening whatsoever; she was squinting over into the far corner of the room, where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the centre of a group of first and second-year students who appeared to be chewing some sort of candy. 

“No, I’m sorry, they’ve gone too far,” she said, standing up and looking positively furious. “Come on, Ron.”

“I – what?” said Ron, playing for time. “No – come on, Hermione – we can’t tell them off for giving out sweets.”

“You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougat or – or Puking Pastilles or –’

“Fainting Fancies?’ Harriet offered quietly.

They watched, as one by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, the younger students went slumping in their seats, some with extended or bloodied noses, huge red boils over their faces, and some even passed out cold. 

Most people that were watching laughed, but Hermione got out of her seat and walked over to Fred and George, looking absolutely furious. 

Ron rose halfway out of his chair, hovered uncertainty for a moment or two, then muttered to Harry, “She’s got it under control,” before sinking as low in his chair to hide himself from the twins’ view. 

“That’s enough!” Hermione said forcefully to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said George, nodding, “this dosage looks strong enough, doesn’t it?”

“You aren’t allowed to test your rubbish on students!”

“We’re paying them!” Fred shot back indignantly. 

“I don’t care, it could be dangerous!” 

“Rubbish,” said George. 

“Calm down, Hermione, they’re fine!” said Lee reassuringly as he walked from student to student, inserting purple sweets into their mouths. 

“Yeah, look, they’re coming round now,” said George. 

A few of the students who had been unconscious were indeed stirring. Several looked shocked to find themselves lying on the floor or dangling off their chairs. 

“Feel alright?” said George kindly to a young girl lying near his feet. 

“I— I think so,” she said shakily. 

“Excellent,” said Fred happily, but by the next second, Hermione had confiscated their clipboard. 

“It is NOT excellent!” She shouted, her hair practically buzzing with electricity. 

“Course it is, they’re alive, aren’t they?” Fred told her angrily. 

“You can’t do this, what if you made one of them really ill?” 

“We’re not going to make them ill, we’ve already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same –” 

“If you don’t stop doing it, I’m going to—”

“Put us in detention?” Fred offered in an I’d-like-to-see-you-try-it voice. 

“Or make us write lines?” said George, smirking. 

“No,” Hermione said, her voice quivering with anger as she straightened herself out to stare them both directly in the eye, “but I will write to your mother.” 

“You wouldn’t,” said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.

“Oh, yes, I would!” She said in a very forbidding tone. “I can’t stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you’re not to give them to students!”

Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that Hermione’s threat was way below the belt. 

With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred’s clipboard and then back into his arms and stalked back to her chair by the fire.

“Thanks for the support, Ronald,” she said grimly. 

“You handled it just fine by yourself,” he voiced. “So,” he started off again, “what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?” 

Hermione was silent for a moment, sitting quite still before shaking her head. “I can’t do this right now, I’m going upstairs.” 

“You can’t!” Ron whined, looking furiously between his near blank parchment, Hermione and Harriet. “We need help!”

“It’s fine Ron, we can figure it out,” Harriet spoke. “Go to bed Hermione, I’ve got this.” She offered her a short wink when Ron wasn’t looking and the bushy-haired girly laughed. 

“Thanks.” 

As she and Ron started on their assignment, Harriet just happened to glance over at the clock and noticed it was nearly 6 o’clock. 

“Crap! I’ve got to go, Ron!” 

“What?! Not you too!” 

“I can’t be late for detention!” She said, quickly picking up her things, not that she’d then for this detention. “Besides,” she started off as she closed her bag, “aren’t there Quidditch try-outs?”

“Crap!” He said too, in the same tone Harriet had used. 

“Tell Angelina I’ll try to make it!” Harriet shouted as she ran to the portrait hole to go to Umbridge’s office and hopefully reschedule her punishment. 

“How?” Ron called back.

“Just tell her I’ll try!”

And with that, Harriet jumped out the door and sprinted to Professor Umbridge’s office. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Good evening, Miss Potter,” Professor Umbridge squawked, very much like a bird in the early morning. She was wearing her fluffy fuchsia pink cardigan again, reminding Harriet of a flamingo only with fur instead of feathers. 

The Gryffindor forced a smile and replied with fake enthusiasm. “Good evening, Professor Umbridge,” she said fondly, though on the inside she was cringing like never before. “Before we begin, I just had a quick question.”

“Yes?” Professor Umbridge asked eagerly, looking at her straight in the eyes. 

“Well… erm… I have Quidditch practise right now, and was wondering… if we could reschedule my detention?” Harriet asked hopefully, but her heart sank as Umbridge smirked in her direction.

“Oh, no no no, Miss Potter! This is your punishment, and after all, punishments must be served accordingly! You may begin your lines.” She showed a hand to the seat across from her teacher’s desk, the quill and parchment already set up for Harriet. “Off you go, chop-chop!” Umbridge clapped her hands, making Harriet wince. 

Slugging herself over to the chair, Harriet reluctantly took her seat and started to write, blood squirting on the page almost instantaneously as the letter ‘I’ was engraved on the back of her hand. 

She hissed in pain as she continued to press the tip of the quill onto the paper, just as roughly as she did last time. She knew it would only make the scarring worse, but the pain allowed her to exert her hatred towards the woman. It allowed her to expend her anger somewhere, even if the toll was on herself. 

Harriet continued to write on the parchment, filling in two feet of the roll before the time the sun went down. Even after her hand was slick and covered with her own blood, so much so you couldn’t even see her skin, she still didn’t stop. She couldn’t, she had to prove to Umbridge that she was a fighter, that she could handle this like it was nothing. 

Umbridge was so mad that after a while, she just stopped watching Harriet and resorted to looking out the window. The lady stood at the attention of the Gryffindor quidditch players for some time, but soon enough, they were gone and she was left with nothing to catch her eyes upon except the moon and stars, not that she cared for them anyway. 

By now, Harriet had written on over three feet of the parchment. The words  _ I must not tell lies  _ were scattered over the roll in bright red. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ She wrote the line for what must have been the thousandth time. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ Harriet’s vision was starting to stir. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ Black dots appeared before her. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ Her hand was gushing crimson. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ Now it wasn’t just her hand that was hurting, it was her entire body. 

_ I must not tell lies. _ Harder and harder Harriet dug that wretched quill into the paper, her hand slicing open more and more by the second. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ She thought she would reach bone soon. 

_ I must not tell lies. _ Harriet finally allowed a few tears to escape. 

_ I must not tell lies. _ They dribbled down her cheeks, past her lips and chin, and onto the parchment to mix with the blood, making it less viscous. 

_ I must not tell lies. _ The routine had set in. She wasn't stopping for any reason.

_ I must not tell lies. _ The words weren’t only etched on her skin, but also in her brain. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ She would never forget those words. 

_ I must not tell lies.  _ She would never forget this moment. 

“Come here,” said Professor Umbridge, finally breaking the silence, but Harriet was zoned out, she simply continued to write without having heard anything. 

“Miss Potter!” Professor Umbridge raised her voice so much so that Harriet accidentally swiped the tip of the quill across the page, leaving a huge straight gash along her hand. It stung even more than the other markings. 

“Hand,” she quipped, looking at Harriet with a devilish grin. 

Shakily, Harriet held out her arm for Umbridge to snatch rather harshly. 

Upon inspecting the bloodied mess, Umbridge smiled to herself. “This will do,” She said in satisfaction. “You may leave.”

Again without a word, Harriet got up and scampered out of the room. Only after she was a few corridors away, did she break out in tears and slump against the wall with her knees brought up to her chest and head buried down between them.

Too lost in thought and busy with her breakdown, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her from the dungeons. It was only when she saw the pair of shoes standing before her that she realized Umridge must have followed her. Only it wasn’t Umbridge. When Harriet slowly raised her head to look at the newcomer, she saw none other than Severus Snape positioned in front of her. She should have known, only Snape had leather derby shoes, whereas Umbridge had at least a dozen various coloured pink heels. 

Harriet immediately covered her bloodied hand and wiped away her tears with the other first, her glasses sliding down her nose as she did so. 

“Come,” he whispered, waiting for her to get up off the floor. 

Hesitant to follow him, Harriet took a second to think before shakily standing on her feet, wobbling slightly from the blood loss. 

Snape tried to steady her but she swatted him away instantaneously. “I’m fine,” Harriet tried to convince him in a shard tone. 

Humming in response, he led her down a flight of stairs and to his office for the second time in two days. It felt like this was becoming a routine. 

“Sit,” he urged her as he started pulling a few viles from the upper cupboards and mixing the contents with herbs and other strangely coloured liquids to put under the burner to warm. 

“Your hand,” he asked her gently, reaching out to take it. 

“My hand?” Harriet played stupidly, not wanting him to know what happened. He’d already seen enough. He’d already seen her vulnerable. 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Severus spoke smoothly, still waiting for her hand. “Let me see.”

“Like I said,” Harriet went on with the act, “I’m fine.”

Snape, however, wasn't going to let this slide. “Harriet,” he tried again, this time in the softest tone he could manage, “I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless you let me.”

“Why would you want to help me?” She muttered, looking down at her feet. “You hate me.”

“I do not hate you.”

Harriet snorted. “Really, ‘cause it sure as hell feels like it.”

Snape sighed and sat down beside her, trying to figure out a way to explain himself. “Harriet, there is no excuse for the way I have treated you in the past,” he started very gently. “I would like to change. I want to be better. To everyone, but to you especially.”

“Why?” Harriet asked, looking more than surprised by his statement. 

“Because it's the right thing to do,” was all he said in response after offering her a small smile. “Now please, let me see your hand.”

Harriet looked down at her arm which was covered in her robes before she very closely, brought it out for him to see. 

He eyed the wound carefully before bringing out his wand and singing a soft rhythm under his breath.

After the blood was whisked away into thin air by the magic and the cuts closed, hemming themselves together, a fairly large reddened scar was left. 

“The potion will help the scarring,” Snape stated as he took the cauldron off of the fire before pouring it into a small tube and cooling it with a simple spell. “They may sting a bit,” he warned before very carefully pouring the liquid over her hand.

Harriet winced and pulled away slightly as the potion hit her scar. She watched, biting her lip to keep from whining in pain as it turned white as if with age, just like the scar perched upon her forehead. 

Snape pulled out a long thing of white bandaged and wrapped them around her hand. Harriet couldn’t but think he should be a Healer rather than a professor. 

“Now,” he stated as he got up to put things away on their shelves, his back facing Harriet, “would you like me to walk you back to your Common Room?”

Harriet frowned at his ongoing kindness towards her. “I-- I think I can manage,” she ended up replying shortly. As got up to leave, Snape turned around and looked at her sadly. 

“Who used the quill on you?” He already knew it was Umbridge, but he felt obligated to ask. 

“Quill?”

“I know males from a blood quill when I see them.”

Harriet sighed and shook her head. “I’d rather not say,” she answered in a whisper, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further. 

Snape simply nodded, understanding her situation and opened the door for her. 

“Thank you,” Harriet said simply as she walked past him, to which he nodded again, not saying anything more. 

Harriet rushed out, starting to make her way back to Gryffindor tower, hurrying along at a brisk pace in case Mrs. Norris of Filch was out roaming the halls, looking to catch students out of bed. 

She heard the clock near the Great Hall chime twice in a row, it was already two in the morning and she still had work to get done. She’d never get any sleep tonight. 

Hurrying along the halls so as to not get caught by Filch or Miss Noris, portraits started to wake up as Harriet walked by, her shoes clicking along the stone floors. 

By the time she reached the portrait, it was quarter-after. 

“ _ Mimbulus, Mumbletonia,"  _ Harriet whispered as the Fat Lady yawned and opened the door for her to scamper in. 

Surprised the portrait hadn’t said anything about her being out of bed, Harriet made her way into the Common Room, also shocked to see a sleeping Ron and Hermione on the couch near the fireplace. They must have decided to wait up for her. 

Ron had his one arm draped over Hermione who was snuggled in close to his chest, her hair scattered over her face as if she’d simply fallen into his arms right before crashing off to bed. 

Smiling softly, Harriet placed a blanket over them so they could keep warm since the fire was almost burned out, but Hermione started to stir as the blanket touched her arm. 

“Harrie?” She whispered groggily and sat up, now waking Ron as well. 

“Wha’ happened?” Ron asked in a yawn.

“Harrie’s back,” said Hermione sleepily. 

“Oh, how was it then? What’d she make you do?”

“Just lines again,”

“For eight hours?!”

Harried nodded as she bit her lip. “Yeah, I thought it would never end.”

“Well at least you can sleep now,” Ron said, yawning again. 

“Well…” started Harriet, “I actually have some more work to get done, so you two go off, I’ll be up later, Hermione.” Harriet started unpacking her school bag but Hermione simply took her hand and whisked her up the stairs after saying goodnight to Ron, who too went to his own dorm for the night. 

“You’re going to bed,” said Hermione sternly, her voice still not quite the same as when she was awake. 

“I have so much work to do, ‘Mione, I can’t sleep.” 

“Well try or so help me, Merlin…”

“I have my essay to start!”

“I’ll write the intro for you tomorrow, just sleep, Harrie.”

Harriet laughed. “Whatever happened to me ‘writing my own essays this year’?”

“I’ve given you a pass, now take it before I retract my statement,” Hermione said. “And go to bed!”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “As you wish.”

__________

“Hey, Potter!” Pansy called out as Harriet walked down the hall with Ron and Hermione on either side of her. “As Draco would say, you’ve finally found your trolls!”

Harriet stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around, being more dramatic than necessary. 

“I only see one troll here, and it’s you,” she shot back smartly. 

Pansy growled and stormed up to Harriet, pushing her back into Ron who staggered to hold Harriet upright. “Don’t think you can talk to me like that!” She sneered angrily, starting to draw a crowd in the hallway. 

“Then don’t treat my friends like they’re some sort of scum!” said Harriet through gritted teeth. 

“Alright then,” she started perkily, “you have your wish. I won’t treat your friends like scum,” Pansy said, broadening her shoulders as she towered over Harriet, “I’ll just treat you’re twisted-blood-trading-arse like scum,” she finished with a smirk. “How’s that sound?”

“No different from the past four years of my life,” Harriet breathed dangerously. 

“Or no different from your entire life,” she went on, cocking a brow. “Because as I hear it, your aunt and uncle are pretty hard on you, huh? As legend tells it, they lock you in a cupboard under the stairs,” she mocked darkly. “Is that true, Potter?” Pansy asked in a babyish tone. “Do you sleep under the stairs?”

Harriet visibly flinched at her words, staggered from foot to foot as she tried to figure out something to say. 

“Don’t have anything to say to me now, do you?”

“Leave her alone!” Ron said as he shoved forwards, eyeing Pansy with a certain darkness in his eyes. 

“Shut it, Weaslebee,” she spoke in a dreary voice. “No one wants to hear from a poor and petty piece of trash such as yourself.”

“You know what, Pansy?” Harriet spoke up, gaining the courage to insult her after she went at Ron. “ You are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet. You simply sicken me.”

Murmurs were heard from the crowd as Harriet shot her jibe as Pansy curled her hands into fists, holding back to urge to punch the Gryffindor right in the nose. 

“Now get your snubby-pug-looking-face, out of my sight or so help me, Merlin, I will do it myself.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Pansy fumed, getting ready to hit Harriet before she even knew what was happening. She just didn’t want to make the first move. 

“Fortunately for you, I’d like to save my energy for some more intellectually challenging situations, I don’t have any time to waste on half-witted-dull-faced-felons such as yourself!”

And with that, Harriet turned her back on a stunned and wide-eyed Pansy, making sure to flick her hair in the girl’s face before trotting off with her two friends. 

“Harrie!” Hermione squealed, “that was brilliant!”

“Yeah, mate, that was bloody amazing!” Ron added, patting her on the back proudly. 

“Yes, you’ve really taken after James,” a voice sounded from behind them. Snape. 

The trio whirled around in shock, staring wide eyes up at the greasy-haired man. 

“10 points from Gryffindor,” he continued on in a monotone voice through his curtain of hair. 

“10 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR?!” Ron started. “WHAT ABOUT SLYTHERIN? THEY STARTED IT!” 

“Lower your voice Mr Weasley, there is no need to shout,” he snapped lightly. “And as for Slytherin, I have already deducted 10 points for Miss Parkinson’s behaviour. 

“Now don’t you have class to attend?”

The three of them nodded. “Yes, professor,” Harriet added. 

“Then off you go, out of my sight.”

They all hurried off the transfiguration class, leaving a smirking Snape behind them. 

__________

“Harrie?” Ron posed from the table towards the far left window in the Common Room as he worked on his essay. “About what Pansy said… The Dursleys don’t really lock you in a cupboard, do they?”

Harriet immediately started to panic, her cheeks turning red. “Erm…” she started slowly. She didn’t want to lie to Ron, he was her best friend, but she also didn’t want to tell him about her past.

“Do they?” He asked again, looking concerned due to her reaction. 

“Of course not Ron!” Harriet ended up spitting out. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, they did put bars on your window…”

“Right, I forget you knew about that,” she muttered, biting her inner cheek. 

Ron looked down, knowing she was lying now about her previous answer. “I’m sorry, Harrie.”

“Don’t be, it’s not like you did anything,” Harriet said, forcing a smile to stop from crying. “Besides, it was a long time ago. I hardly remember it.”

Ron slowly nodded, continuing to glance over at Harriet every few seconds only to notice that tears were now slipping down her cheeks. 

“Hey,” said Ron, moving over to sit beside her, “it’s okay, it’s okay…”

“No,” Harriet shook her head, “it's not okay Ron. It’s -- it’s worse than I’ve ever led on…”

“Okay,” Ron offered softly, now taking Harriet in his arms, holding her quivering form ever so gently. “I’m not going to hold it against you for not telling me. It must have been really hard for you to say what you just did right now. 

“And I can’t say I know how it feels, because I don’t know, but I am here for you. Always, Harrie.”

She nodded and pulled out of his grasp before taking her glasses off and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Ron. That-- that means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” he smiled and rubbed her shoulders. “How about you spend the summer at my place, all of it?”   
  
“You-- you really mean it?”

“Of course! I’m sure Ginny wouldn’t mind having a roommate for a while.”

“That would be lovely, Ron, really,” Harriet offered him the smallest of smiles. 

“Wonderful!” Ron clapped his hands together. “It’s a plan!”

“An all summer long sleepover with my best friend, what more could I ask for?”

“Nothing,” said Ron, sporting the widest grin. “Absolutely nothing.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

It was after midnight and most of the other students had departed to their dorms for the night, but the trio along with the twins, Lee and Ginny had decided to stay down by the fire with a bottle of fire whiskey and a deck of cards. 

They had started off playing strip poker but chickened out when Ron got down to his shirt after losing so many times. It was fun while it lasted and the essence of fear and deceit was still lingering in the air. 

“Alright, truth or dare, Lee?” Hermione asked. 

“Truth!” He announced, playing it safe for what was probably the first time in forever.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “From the people here, who do you most want to snog?” Her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Ermm…” he stuttered, starting to blush. “Ginny I suppose,” he admitted, praying the twins and Ron wouldn’t kill him. 

“Well good luck with that, Lee, Ginny likes girls,” Fred laughed, patting his friend’s back. “Without a pair of breasts, I doubt she’d fall for you.”

“FRED!” Ginny shrieked, looking terribly embarrassed, her face extremely red, perhaps even more so than a tomato.

“What? Should I have called them something else?”

“You could start by not saying it at all!” She huffed and crossed her arms. 

“What’s said is said,” Fred chuckled. “No spell to take that back.”

“I could just obliviate everyone,” Ginny said matter of factly. 

“You could, but you wouldn’t. Anyways, I’ll ask now. Georgie,” he turned to his twin. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” he said slowly, going with Lee’s idea of playing it safe tonight. 

“Tell us why Angelina broke it off with you.” Fred posed with a small smirk. 

“Can’t I just drink instead?” He asked, looking just as red as Ginny had just a few seconds ago.

“Nope! Gotta fess up!”

Taking a breath, George just spat it out. “She may or may not have realized she was a lesbian…”

“Oh look, a new match for Ginny then!”

“FRED!” Ginny wailed again, this time leaving forwards and hitting his head. 

“Hey! That hurt!” He mentioned, rubbing his forehead. 

“Well, so do your words!”

Fred rolled his eyes, now feeling a little badly for having embarrassed her so much. 

To change the subject, Ron looked at Ginny and posed the question to her. “Truth or dare?” He asked

“Um... dare.”

“I dare you to...” Ron said with a hum and tilted his head to the side as he thought. “Sneak up to seventh-year boys’ dorm and steal all their undergarments!”

“WHAT?!” Lee, George, and Fred all gasped at once. 

“She can’t do that!” Fred went on.

“Those are our clothes!” George finished his brother’s sentence. 

“A dare’s a dare!” Ron shrugged. “Besides, if she steals them at least you lot will know where they are.”

“You know what?” Ginny started, looking more amused now that the twins and Lee her banking that she wouldn’t do the dare, “I’ll do it, just to get back at these three for putting cockroaches in my bed back home, and for Fred’s words.”

“Oh c’mon, Gin!” Fred tried to persuade her. “That was only a joke!”   
  
“Well, so is this,” she said matter of factly and scampered up the steps to the boys’ tower. 

“We could just go up and stop here, right?” Lee questioned the twins. 

“I suppose,” Fred sighed, “but it is a dare, and I don’t want to encourage backing down or leaving one incomplete, that would just be a dishonour to our practices.”

“What really knocks my socks,” George started, “is that girls are allowed in the boys’ dormitories, but boys aren't allowed in the girls’ dormitories! Whose ‘brilliant’ idea was that?” He asked, making air quotes. 

“Well it’s an old-fashioned rule,” Hermione began, “ it says in  _ Hogwarts A History _ , that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls.”

“Rubbish! Two of the founders were men!”

Hermione simply rolled her eyes. “It’s history _.” _

“No wonder I hate history then,” George voiced begrudgingly. 

Moments later, Ginny was flying back down the stairs with piles of fabric in her arms, though instead of dropping them down in front of the boys or on the couch, she ran up the stairs to the girls tower. 

“Hey!” The three seventh years gasped. “Where's she going?!”

“I think,” said Harriet, “you’ll be saying goodbye to your clothes for a while.”

Ginny came back down, sliding down the banister with a wide grin. 

“That was fun! Thanks, Ron!” 

“You march right back up there and get our clothes back!” George announced dangerously. 

“Not a chance, boys. This is your punishment.”

“Ginny! I swear on Merlin's beard --”

“You’ll what? You’re not a prefect, just try and punish me, I’d like to see you try.”

“Looks like you boys have some competition in the castle,” Harriet joked and wicked at Ginny for a job well done and a game well played. 

After another half hour of bickering between the siblings, now with Ron included because he had told Ginny to conduct the act, she had finally returned most of the undergarments (of course the boys thought they had everything and didn’t notice they only had one of each sock) and the game resumed. 

“Who wants a dare?” Fred asked the group. 

“I’ll take one,” Harriet said, taking a sip from the bottle of firewhiskey, her throat burning up as the liquid travelled down. “Damn, that’s strong,” she mumbled hoarsely and coughed a bit, making Ginny laugh. 

“Wait ‘till you get to experts like us,” George piped up. 

“Doesn’t even hurt anymore!” Lee went on and took a long swig, not even so much as wincing as he swallowed. 

Harriet smirked as Ron rolled his eyes at his elder brothers and their friend. “Show offs,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“What’s that Ronikins?”

“Jealous I hear?” 

“Oh sod off,” he grumbled and threw a few cards from their previous game at them, managing to hit George in the nose and Fred’s left shin. 

“Freddie! I’ve been stabbed!” George joked sarcastically and pretended to die in his brother's arms. 

“No! George! My one and only true love!” 

Everyone burst into laughter except Ron who scowled and got up to sit but the window in defeat. 

“So Harriet,” Fred began as he pulled his brother off of him and onto the floor. 

“Oy! Mate! Better watch it!” George joked and brushed himself off. 

“Dare is,” he smirked at Lee and his twin, “you have to go swim in the Black Lake.” Everyone started to snicker as Harriet moaned in frustration and covered her face with her hands, but Fred wasn’t done. “Naked.” Harriet practically flopped onto the floor at this. 

“You have GOT to be joking!” She said in exasperation. 

“Nope,” Fred smiled back and tutted his tongue. “Gotta do it, Potter. 

“Not a chance!” 

“It’s a dare, no backing out.” 

“But I can’t do this! It’s insane! I chicken!” 

“That’s not allowed,” Fred raised a brow and crossed his arms. 

“Yes it is!” Harriet bellowed, growing anxious. 

“Don’t do it and Binns finds out you cheated on that essay,” he said, taking another sip of the firewhiskey. 

“You wouldn't dare!” 

“On wouldn’t I?” Fred winked. 

“No, I don’t believe you.” 

“Really? Because if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t risk it.” 

“Still no.” 

“Hey!” Hermione shrieked looking incredibly flustered, “then Binns’ll know I wrote I if for you! You have to do it, Harrie! I can’t get in trouble!” 

Harriet bit her lip and shook her head in defeat. “No one watches though.”

“We have to make sure you do it!” Ginny laughed. 

“No one is taking a step out of this common room or so Merlin help me, I will curse you all!” 

“Fine,” Lee said, breaking up the discussion. “We’ll watch from the window. Okay?” 

“Fine,” she sighed, gritting her teeth and got up to make her way to the portrait.

“Better come back slick and wet, Potter,” George teased to which the group snickered again. 

“And better watch out for the squid!” Ginny hollered. “I heard its tentacles are slimy!” 

Harriet groaned and swung the portrait door shut with a loud bang causing the Fat Lady to yell at her for leaving so late in the night and awakening her from her slumber. 

As Harriet scampered down the hall, having forgotten completely about getting her invisibility cloak before having left the Common Room, she felt sick to the stomach. She knew this was a bad idea, she just didn’t realize who bad the night would turn out for her later on. 

Making her way dozens upon dozens of sleeping portraits, doing her best to not wake them as she had last time she was out after hours, Harriet realized she’d forgotten her wand.

“Merlin, this I’m so stupid,” she mutters, patting down her robes to see if it was she had perhaps tucked it away in some pocket of hers. 

“That. You. Are!” A voice snapped from behind her. Umbridge. 

Harriet froze in her tracks almost instantaneously. 

“My office,” the professor went on, “Now.”

Harriet visibly gulped and turned around to see Professor Umbridge in her pink nightgown, robe and slippers, waiting for her to walk ahead of her. 

“Professor, I can explain --” Harriet tried. 

“My office!” She interrupted, hissing dangerously. 

Without another word, Harriet started off towards Professor Umbridge’s headquarters which was only a few doors down to the left, she should have known to be more careful in this area of the castle. 

Upon reaching the door that led inside her cat infested office, Umbridge opened the door and nudged Harriet inside, her wand pointed at her small of her back.

“Just what do you think you were doing out of bed at this hour?!” 

“Just taking a midnight stroll,” Harriet answered convincingly. 

“Lies! Lies, lies, lies! All you tell are lies!” Professor Umbridge shouted much louder than necessary. “Now, tell me where you were going to and what your intentions were, or you’ll be doing lines of the rest of the night!”

“I most certainly will not be doing lines with the ratty quill of yours!”

“Dear,” Professor Umbridge started in a mawkish sweet tone, now lowering her voice, “tell me, or I will force you. I have my ways.” She offered Harriet a wicked smile. 

Harriet, however, stood her ground this time, she wasn’t about to let Umbridge torture her again. “I refuse.”

“Well, then, I guess I only have one choice… Imperio!”

Harriet felt the curse wash over her like an ocean wave, but little did Umbridge know, she could fight this particular spell. 

Umbridge kept her wand pointed towards Harriet, and she could feel herself wanting to reach towards the bloodquill. The urge to write on the parchment and watch her hand bleed out was almost unbreakable, but only almost. 

With all her might, Harriet fought back against the curse and managed to break the connection between her and Umbridge’s wand. 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself taking heaving breaths on her knees, having sunk to the ground upon the weight of the jix. 

“I don’t-- I don’t understand--” Professor Umbridge started, looking too stunned to be mad. 

“That spell.” Harriet breathed, trying to catch her breath, “Doesn’t. Work. On. Me.”

“Perhaps not on the first try, but we’ll just see how long you last,” she whispered harshly, twisting her wand in hand. “Imperio!” 

Two times. The spell shot down on her for a second time. 

Harriet groaned, trying to fight to urge to go towards that wretched quill and mark her hand. 

Three times. For a third time, Umbridge shot the curse.

Harriet went straight to her back upon the impact with the curse, Umbridge’s spells were strong and very powerful.

Four times. Again, the imperius curse was cast upon her. 

It took everything she had in her to not crawl towards the table in which the quill rested upon. 

Five times. For the fifth time, Harriet battled the unforgivable curse. 

_ ‘Just breathe’ _ she tried to tell herself as she started to panic, the pain was getting to her.  _ ‘Just try to breathe. It's okay. It’ll end soon.’ _

Six times. Umbridge shot the spell down on her yet again. 

Harriet started to scream in frustration. She didn’t think this moment would end, it seemed to last for an eternity. 

Seven. Again, a strong wave washed over her. 

Harriet was rolling on the ground now as she tried to fend off the spell, crying. Tears matted and stained her face as the droplets rolled down past her cheeks and down her chin. 

Eight. The curse shot at her for the eighth time. 

Harriet didn't think she could win this battle, it was too much. She couldn’t hold it much longer. 

“STOP!” She screamed desperately. “STOP IT! PLEASE!” 

Umbridge only smirked and shot the jinx again. 

That was nine times now. 

Blood started pouring down Harriet’s chin from out of her mouth. She had bit her inner cheek so hard that it had split open, now gushing a deep crimson colouring. 

Just as she was about to give in, to get up on the feet and start writing, the door flew open. 

Umbridge immediately stopped her spell and pocketed her wand as quickly as possible as she tried to hide the fact she’d been torturing a student. 

“Snape,” she started, looking rather shocked. She was blocking the door so he couldn’t look inside. “Might I ask what exactly you are doing in my office?”

“I heard screaming from the dungeons,” he answered and tried to peer inside, but Professor Umbridge shifted to block him from Harriet’s view. She was still lying on the floor gasping for air, sobbing madly. 

“Step aside, Dolores,” he started in a dangerous tone. “Now.” He heard the sound of a student crying and wasn’t about to walk away. 

“Severus, what ever has gotten into you?” She asked, stunned by his tone. 

“I will not ask again,” he said, reaching for his wand. 

“You have no business here!” Umbridge didn’t notice his right hand was over his wand.

“Move.”

“I most certainly will not! You have absolutely no reason to be here, especially at this hour!”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Severus pulled out his wand and threw a curse at Umbridge, making her fall limp before him. 

Moving the now sleeping witch aside, he waltzed into the room, gritting his teeth as he saw Harriet laying on the ground, her eyes half-closed as she stared up at the ceiling.

“No more,” she whispered, not having noticed it was Snape and not Umbridge standing before her. 

Severus carefully kelt down next to her, keeping his wand put in case Umbridge were to suddenly wake, though she shouldn’t, not with the curse he had cast upon her. She’d presumably be out for the rest of the night. 

“Harriet,” Snape whispered, cradling her head as he wrapped his cloak around her body, “can you hear me?”

Harriet moaned in response, unsure of what was going on. 

“It’s okay, darling,” he said out of pure instinct. “You’re safe now.”

“Hurts…” she mumbled, struggling to breathe. 

Taking his wand again, Severus waved it over her body, watching as a golden shimmer fell over Harriet’s form. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

“My daughter,” Snape whispered, caressing her hair, “what has she done to you?”

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

_ One.  _

_ It felt like she was torn apart, half her body trying to crawl toward that wretched quill while the other half tried to fight back.  _

_ Two. _

_ Her own wails crackle throughout her ears, piercing both her eardrums. Her throat was dry and raw.  _

_ Three.  _

_ She couldn't breathe. It hurt too much.  _

_ Four.  _

_ She closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the pain sparking across her entire body. It was all too much.  _

_ Five.  _

_ The curse wouldn’t stop. Umbridge wouldn’t stop.  _

_ Six.  _

_ Writhing on the floor, she could hear the professor's laughs echo throughout the room. It just made things all the more worse. It made her hate the moment just that much more.  _

_ Seven.  _

_ Still squirming, Harriet balled her hands into fists causing her nails to dig into the palms of her hands so hard they left marks. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the strain on her head.  _

_ Eight.  _

_ It still didn’t stop and Harriet's vision was starting to blur. ‘But it’ll be over soon,’ Harriet tried to tell herself. ‘You can do this. You can survive through this moment.’ _

_ Nine.  _

_ That’s when Snape had knocked on the door. It had finally stopped. _

__________

Harriet’s eyes slowly started to peel open as she woke in the hospital wing, though the bright light shining through the window made her wince and quickly shut them again. She groaned a bit, still feeling stressed and confused about what was going, how she’d gotten to the hospital wing, and why she was even there in the first place. 

The plain white curtains around her bed were draped closed so she had plenty of privacy, leaving Harriet wondering who was talking on the other side as she could hear soft murmurs. She couldn’t quite pick out what was being said, but there was obviously an argument of sorts going on. 

“Let me tell her!” Harriet caught the line, it was Snape talking. 

“She’s not ready, Severus, give it some time,” the voice of Albus Dumbledore answered. 

“I have! I’ve given it months! And she has a right to know!” Snape hissed in protest. 

Harriet started to think about who they might be speaking of. There was a good chance it was her, given the fact they were whispering just outside her cubical. But what on earth was the conversation about?

“No, you mustn’t and will not tell her anything of the sort. Understand?”

What was she, presumably, or perhaps someone else, not supposed to know?

“No, Headmaster, I do not ‘ _ understand’ _ ,” Snape said in an icy tone. “When will you get it through your head that she deserves to know the truth!”

“It is quite through my head, Severus, I simply wish to not cause her any harm.”

_ ‘Harm?’ _ Harriet thought.  _ ‘Was this something to do with Voldemort?’ _

“Harm you say?” Snape scoffed. “Have you no idea the harm you have already caused her? Leaving her with the Dursleys—”

_ ‘Okay’ _ , Harriet thought, this conversation was definitely about her. She struggled to sit up in bed a little more and tired and lean forwards towards the source of the voices. If Dumbledore was involved, this had to be important, and since it was about her, she had a right to know what they were talking about. 

“I had no choice but to do that, Severus. It was the only way to protect her.”

“You say you wish to protect her yet all you do is cause her distress! The girl is traumatized!”

“You do not know that.”

“Then how come Remus told me her Boggart was Vernon, Petunia and Dudley?” 

Harriet thought back on the memory of that day in class. It had been simply horrible. 

_ She had been standing in front of the oddly shaped wooden cabinet, fists clenched by her sides so tightly her fingers turned white. Her breaths were hitched as she tried to hold her breath to stop from breaking down, she already knew damn well what would appear before her. _

_ Near tears, she looked behind her shoulder towards Hermione and Ron, who was standing in line a few rows down from where she stood towards the front. There was no one to block her path from the monsters that would soon appear. _

_ Hermione gave her a slight nod in an attempt to ease the spiking fear that erupted throughout her core, but it did nothing as such. The look of worry on Hermione’s face only drew Harriet to a darker place than before. _

_ As the spell shot at the darkened drawer of the cabinet and the door shot open, the forms of Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley steadily creeped out towards him. _

_ Harriet’s breath caught and her hand started to waver, her wand shaking like mad within her grasp. Her entire body seemed to go stiff as Vernon Dursley continued towards her, his steps agonizingly slow as if he was trying to draw the most fear possible from the girl before he decided to strike. _

_ “A waste of space,” he sneered towards his nephew. “A pitiful excuse of a child! You are nothing but an ungrateful brat!” _

_ “I wish my sister never birthed you!” A horse-face Petunia added darkly with a bit of a laugh. “Her and that wretched James Potter, he was a fool! They both got what they deserved!” _

_ Tears were rushing down Harriet’s cheeks at this point. They dribbled down past his chin before rolling across her neck and slipping down her shirt, soaking the upper half in some areas. _

_ She didn’t have the courage to say anything back. The words had sunk in and it was all too much, they had cut through her like a knife. _

_ “Why would anyone love an orphan?” Dudley jeered with a wild smirk. “Why would anyone ever be interested in a runt like you?” _

_ Shakily, Harriet raised her wand a bit higher and tried to shoot the curse. “R-Riddikulus!” She croaked out under her breath, her voice coming out as a whimper. Nothing happened. “R-Riddikulus!” Harriet attempted again but to no avail. The spell hardly sent the Dursley’s forms flickering in the stiffened air. _

_ “You are nothing!” Vernon went on, taking another step forward, his words slamming into Harriet so hard that she dropped to her knees, her wand clattering the floor beside her. “Nothing, I tell you! Nothing!” He roared at her louder than he ever had before. “A disgrace to this family is all you have ever been and all you ever will be!” _

_ Harriet started to hyperventilate, her breaths unsynced as she hiccuped and shook like mad on her knees.  _

_ Thankfully, with the blink of an eye, the Boggart was suddenly changing figures. And the figure morphed into that from the Dursley family into that of a full moon. When Harriet looked up, Remus was standing in front of her.  _

Dumbledore didn’t say a word. For once in the old man’s life, he was speechless. 

“You have brought nothing but darkness on her life and I simply will not allow it!”

“Severus, Lily wouldn’t have wanted her to know, don’t break a dead woman’s heart.”

Snape stopped at this, and so did Harriet. What did this have to do with her mother? She knew Snape and Lily would have gone to school together, but hey they even knew each other at the time? 

“She would not have wished to withhold the truth from her own daughter,” Snape tried to convince both himself and Dumbeldore, though he didn’t know if words were even true.

“I will not speak of this anymore, Severus, good day.” 

Harriet saw the old wizard’s figure move through the curtains and exit the room. 

Severus audibly sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening the curtains and peering over at Harriet who had quickly laid back down and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered under his breath “I’m so so sorry.”

Once Harriet thought she had heard the sound of footsteps walking away, she cracked an eye open, only to see Snape was still standing there, someone else must have left the room and those were the footsteps she had heard.

“Harriet,” he breathed, “you’re awake.”

“Mmm,” she mumbled, pretending to be sleepy. 

Snape went over beside her and took a seat on the chair at Harriet’s beside. He was silent for a few moments, trying to gather a sentence together before he spoke. 

“How do you feel?” he asked gently. 

“Fine,” Harriet answered honestly, she was just a little stiff, presumably from having slept for so long, but she didn’t feel any pain. “Thank you for helping me last night,” she whispered afterwards, looking up at the professor with the smallest hint of a smile. 

“I’m just glad you’re safe now,” he answered gently. 

“So Umbridge is gone?” Harriet asked, having thought that the only way to be safe now was without Umbridge around. 

Severus sighed at this and reluctantly shook his head. “I wish I could tell you she was.”

“W-what?” Harriet mumbled, struggling to speak as she looked so starstruck. “She— she tortured me! How— how can she not have been fired for that?!” Tears started to well up in the corners of her eyes, but Harriet quickly wiped them away, not wanting Snape to see her so emotional. It was more than just embarrassing. It was mortifying. 

“It’s complicated, Harriet,” he started slowly. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try to explain,” Harriet asked desperately. “Please.”

“HARRIE!” A voice shrieked from the other side of the room and Hermione came running in just ahead of Ron, Ginny, and the twins. 

“I’ll give you all some space,” Severus muttered and got up to leave, Hermione taking his seat shortly after. 

“We would have come sooner but McGingall said we weren't allowed in until after lunch since you’d probably still be sleeping. I’m so so sorry. How long have you been up? Are you hurt? What exactly happened? Do—”

“Hermione,” Ron chuckled, “breathe, let the poor girl talk.”

“Right, sorry Harrie.”

“It’s okay, ‘Mione. And don’t worry, I’m just fine. I only woke up a few minutes ago.”

“What was Snape doing here?” Ron asked with a small scowl. 

“He wanted to check up on me. He's the one who actually saved me last night.”

“But from what?” Ginny asked. “We were all worried sick when we didn’t see you leave the castle, and then when you didn’t come back, we went out looking for you!”

“Umbridge caught me,” Harriet started to explain.

“And what, bloody tortured you so bad you ended up here?” Ron laughed a little, looking at her curiously. 

“Yes, actually,” said Harriet, biting her lip. 

Everyone’s faces immediately dropped, they looked too stunned to talk, too stunned to even breathe really. 

“She— she—” Ron began as tears slipped down Hermione and Ginny’s cheeks. 

“Look,” Harriet began, “I’d rather not talk about it. Just know it’s probably not as bad as you think,” she lied convincingly, it was probably worse than what they were imagining. 

“O— okay,” Hermione gulped and took Harriet’s hand. “But you’re sure you’re okay? Nothing hurts?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry."

“Good enough to play Quidditch I hope!” Ron beamed. “We have a game in two hours!   
“Ronald!” Hermione pinched him. “Don’t be silly, of course, Harrie isn’t going to be playing Quidditch! She’s in the hospital wing for Merlin’s sake!”

“Yes, I am!” Harriet beamed, having completely forgotten about the game. She whipped the blankets off and stood up, a little shakily at first, but then managed to gather her footing. “I’m fine! Perfectly fine!”

“Miss Potter!” Madam Pomfrey chirped. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Quidditch got to get ready!” She said and quickly started gathering her things.

“I think not!” The nurse said. “You are on bed rest, at least for the rest of the day!”

“But I can’t be! I have Quidditch!”   
  
Madam Pomfrey rushed her back to bed. “Well, Quidditch will just have to wait then, your health comes first!”

“But I’m fine!” Harriet protested. 

“You had an unforgivable used on you last night! Now please, lay back down.”

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George practically gawked at this, Harriet hadn’t said anything about an unforgivable curse. 

Knowing there was no more use in protesting, Harriet huffed and jumped back on her bed looking quite upset. 

“Mate,” Ron whispered as Madam Pomfrey walked about to grab her some medicine, “Umbridge used an unforgivable on you?”

Harriet’s eyes widened at this. “Erm… No?” She half stated, half asked. 

“Harrie,” Hermione hiccuped, “please don’t lie. Not to us.”

Looking like she might slip a few tears herself, Harriet slowly nodded. “She used the imperius curse to try and force me to hurt myself,” she whispered under her breath.

“No—” Fred and George gasped simultaneously.

“Ginny?” Harriet posed, shaking her head to try and stop from crying anymore, she wanted to change the conversation to something else. Something less depressing. “Play seeker for me today, will you?”   
“Of course,” Ginny said slowly, her voice saddened and raw. 

Harriet nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Can I be alone please?”

“Are you sure, Harrie?”

“Yes, I just need to sleep.”

“Alright,” Hermione said and kissed her forehead. “We’re here for you, love, know that.”

“I know,” Harriet said, forcing a small smile up at her friend. 

With that, the rest of the crew walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Harriet alone with her thoughts. 

__________

The crowd went wild as Gryffindor scored yet another goal, bringing the total score up to 130 to 110 in their favour. It was a tight match, and the snitch had yet to be seen by either team. 

Both seekers hovered above the crowd, the entire stadium now supposedly supporting Gryffindor. Red and gold banners covered three-quarters of the area, while redheads poked out of the last quarter, though green and silver serpents were clasped tightly in the owner's hands. 

“And Slytherin intercepts the quaffle!” The Lee Jordan exclaimed excitedly. “Florence passes to Vanity. Vanity back to Florence. He’s headed towards the goal! He dodges Bell, and now he’s past Spinnet. He’s going to shoot! And he does! Weasley isn’t able to block it! And that’s another goal for Slytherin bringing the score up to 130 to 120 in Gryffindors favour! Let’s hope they can stay ahead!” 

Ginny internally groaned, growing frustrated that she hadn’t yet seen the snitch. It never took Harrie this long to find n. 

“Oi, Weasley! Get a move on will yeh? We don’t got all day!” Her captain, one of the chasers, called out as she flew by. 

“Yeah, I’m trying,” she mumbled to herself, gazing around the pitch again. 

“Now it’s Gryffindor with the quaffle! Brooks slams a bludger Spinnet’s way, but she swerves to the side as it nearly knocks Ashton off her broom instead!”

Ginny tried to block out the sound of the cheering crowd and the screaming speakers ringing in her ears. She had to focus. 

“UNBELIEVABLE!” Lee cried, making the crowd roar loudly. “Amazing move from Flint, Keeper of Slytherin! Just as Spinnet was about to make a goal that would have brought Gryffindor a little more ahead, the quaffle was blocked. If Weasley doesn’t catch the Snitch fast, the favour might slip completely to Slytherin!”

The words rang through her head blocking her thought process away from the snitch hovering not three feet away from her. 

“GINNY! OI! GINNY!” George screamed and pointed just to the right of where her broom hovered in the air. But she wasn’t focusing. Harrie was hurt, and that’s all that was on her mind. 

“GINNY!” The girl screamed again to which Ginny seemed to snap out of her daze, following her brother’s finger to where the snitch had just been, the ball having already flown to another position on the field. 

Ginny quickly scanned the area around her and finally caught a glimpse of a golden speck flying around right between the players. She immediately dove down, the other seeker following her seconds later as she drove at full speed towards the orb, her hand stretched out as far as she could reach. 

The snitch rolled around in the air, nearly smashing smack in the middle of the bludgers a few times that Gi dodged seconds later to avoid getting thrown off of her broom. The other seeker, Malice McCarter, was nearly head to head with her as they raced forward. 

It seemed Lee was no longer interested In commentating about the actual match. “It looks like Weasley has seen the snitch! If she catches it now, Gryffindor will win!”

As the wind whipped through Ginny’s hair, and the roaring of hundreds of students standing at the edge of the pitch sounded around her, she finally managed to block out the noise, focusing solely on her own deep breaths and the golden sphere in front of her. 

Nearing closer and closer, inch by inch, to the snitch, it suddenly dropped down the ground forcing her to go straight into a nosedive towards the ground, McCarter still at her tail and their fingers, not millimetres apart. 

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins as Ginny eased into a slow turn out if the dive as she neared the ground, McCarter no longer at her side as he had pulled up second before hitting the grass, unable to complete the transition. The snitch was hers. 

With her hand stretched out, Ginny leaned forwards and took the orb into her hands, clasping it tightly in hand. 

The crowd screamed in glory as she flew back up into the air, her hand raised in triumph. 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! GINNY WEASLEY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! AND WITHOUT SLAMMING HEAD FIRST INTO THE GROUND! THAT’S A WIN FOR GRYFFINDOR, 280 to 120! WITH QUITE THE SPECTACULAR CATCH MIGHT I ADD!”

The rest of her team came racing towards her, settling into a group hug in mid-air, celebrating their first win of the season. The Quidditch Cup was in their sights. Ginny only wished Harriet had been able to experience this with her team, she deserved it. 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

“Transfiguration starts in five,” Hermione chirped. “We’d better hurry.”

Harriet hummed in response and started walking a bit faster down the now brightly lit corridors. 

During the day, the castle was flooded by natural light, so long as it wasn’t too cloudy outside, and proved to be one of the most beautiful places Harriet had come to know. The picturesque sights along the walk to class were like no other. It was simply breathtaking, to put it in simpler terms. Everything about the castle was perfect, from the large wooden arched doorways to the detailed stained glass windows, and high ceilings, tall enough to fit a real-life giant or troll, Hogwarts was a true home. It was her home. Yet right now, it didn’t feel as such. She didn’t feel safe here— at least not with Umbridge around. 

“You alright, Mate?” asked Ron as he peered over at Harriet who seemed to be lost in thought. 

“Fine,” Harriet responded with a lie, “just a little tired.”

Ron nodded, though he wasn’t fully convinced, as they mounted the last flight of stairs to the floor on which their class resided. While the last of the students filed into the open classroom, the trio made their way in, with seconds to spare. Harriet took a seat with Hermione towards the front of the class, as usual, while Ron sat behind them with Dean, who for some reason wasn’t with Seamus this morning. 

Moments later, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom and started their lesson, droning on about the magic behind transfiguration and how shapeshifting worked. It was quite an advanced lecture and Hermione was very engaged. She found it just fascinating how the complexity behind the spells she was using worked. Harriet only found it a miracle that she understood in the slightest what was happening in class that day. 

“The second law refers to Abraski’s theory of transformation—” Professor McGonagall went on as Harriet tried to capture what she was saying in her notes, which happened to be messier than usual. She could barely read her own handwriting today.

Harriet was scribbling notes on her piece of parchment like mad as she tried to catch up with what Professor McGonagall was saying. As her quill ran across the page, she couldn’t help but continue to glance down at the back of her hand every few seconds to ensure no marks weren’t appearing there. Harriet even swore she felt her skin being pried apart, her own crimson blood soaking her hand. Yet every time she looked down, nothing was there. 

“Our last law coincides with March’s speculation of transmogrification, his hypothesis connecting back to Bronsoles’ theory of disillusion.”

Harriet started seeing red appear over her parchment, and her heart skipped a beat. She closed her eyes for a second, praying this wasn’t happening again and looked down at the page only to see the red colouring had disappeared. It had only been a figment of her imagination. 

By the time McGonagall had finished reciting her speech on the Laws of Transfiguration, Hermione had a pile of parchment in front of her filled with notes, some of which Harriet had copied off of on her much smaller stack. Meanwhile, Ron had filled out next to nothing on his page but had rather doodled himself holding the Quidditch House Cup, his teammates having lifted him up on their shoulders in awe of his skill. 

As the bell rang and people scooted their chairs back to stand, Harriet and Hermione, picked up all their papers, stuffed them inside their bags, and ran out the door in front of Ron who had too shoved his sketches in his pack and followed closely behind. 

“What do we have now?” He asked, hurrying to keep up with Hermione’s quick pace. 

“Defense,” Hermione piped up as they rounded a corner to head down another flight of stairs. 

Harriet gulped and was reluctant to follow. She didn’t think she would be able to face Umbridge again, at least not yet. 

“I—I don’t think I can go,” Harriet said quickly and stopped walking, causing people to stumble into her on the stairway. 

“Why not?” Ron asked, though Hermione saw it as clear as day: Harriet was scared. 

“I— I don’t— erm… I don’t feel well,” she started and turned around to walk towards the Common Room. “I’ll catch you later, I— I need to rest.” 

Hermione offered her a small smile before moving to pull Ron alongside her to get to class before the next bell went. Umbridge would have a fit if they were late, and getting caught between her and her rage, had proved to be very dangerous.

Instead of going back up to the Common Room, Harriet wandered the halls until they were empty, all the students around having fled to their classes for the last period of the day.

As she scooted down a rather long corridor, none other than Pansy Parkinson appeared at the other end. Harriet quickly stopped in her tracks before turning the other way, walking quickly to the next stairwell to get away, though unfortunately, Blaise Zabini blocked her path. 

“Well, well, well,” he said, staring towards Harriet who backed away cautiously, “if it isn’t Saint Potter.”

“She seems a little skittish, don’t you think Blaise?” Pansy piped up from behind Harriet. “I suppose it’s because of her little run in with Umbridge the other night. A pity it was you got caught, huh?” She mocked in a babyish voice, her tone practically dripping with sarcasm. 

Harriet was stunned that they knew. How was that even possible? She hadn’t told anyone. 

“Look at her, all anxious and confused,” Pansy laughed. “I say we teach her a lesson.”

“A lesson,” Harriet asked, looking dumbfounded. “You're the one that needs to pay attention in school, nothing gets through that thick skull of yours.”

Pansy growled and took a few steps closer towards Harriet, backing her into Blaise who gripped her shoulders. 

“Get your bloody hands off me!” She hissed and tried to pull away, but Blaise being much bigger and stronger than her, held Harriet firmly in place. 

“Say you’re sorry, Potty Wotty,” Pansy chimed. 

Harriet glared at her. “That I’m sorry for what?!” She asked. 

“For how you’ve treated me. You’ve been quite the arse.”

“How I’ve treated you!” Harriet huffed. “You’re the one that has been a complete arse, Pansy!”

Blaise dug his nails into Harriet’s shoulders at this as Pansy neared even closer, her nose barely an inch away from Harriet’s. 

“Apologize,” Pansy spat. 

“Leave me alone,” Harriet voiced back, her tone just as dark, though on the inside she was terrified. 

“Miss Parkinson, Mr. Zabini, Miss Potter!” Snape started off from behind them. “Just what do you think you’re doing out of class?”

Blaise quickly let go of Harriet and Pansy put on a fake face. “She was threatening us, Professor!”

“Threatening you?” Harriet gawked. “You had Blaise bloody manhandling me!”

“He was protecting me from  _ you _ ,” Pansy said slyly. 

“Yeah, right, because I was totally posing as a threat,” Harriet went on sarcastically. 

“She had her wand out, Professor!” 

“Do you  _ see _ my wand?!”

“I did say  _ ‘had’ _ ,” Pansy emphasized. 

“Enough,” Snape finally cut off the argument. “10 points from each of your houses. Now off to class, out of my sight.”

Huffing, Pansy dragged Blaise away towards Charms while Harriet started towards the Gryffindor Common Room. 

“Just hold on, Miss Potter.”

Harriet sighed and turned around begrudgingly, waiting to hear her punishment for having been nothing but the victim of Pansy’s cruel ways, again. 

A look of concern flashed across his face for a moment. “Are you alright?” He asked gently. 

Harriet frowned. “Yes, I’m fine,” she answered stiffly. 

He didn’t look too awfully convinced but didn’t push on any further. “What class do you have?”

Harriet froze, looking ashamed for her cowardliness of not wanting to see Umbridge. “Defense,” she mumbled slowly. /span>

Snape seemed to understand what was going on through her head by her silence and sighed. “Follow me.”

Reluctantly, Harriet followed the Professor down the corridor and to an empty classroom. “What’re we doing?” She asked skeptically. 

“Practicing,” he offered and closed the door behind them. “Since you will not be in class with Professor Umbridge today, you will be having a lesson with me.”

Harriet gulped. “I— what?” She asked, not quite sure if she had heard him correctly. 

“Take out your wand.”

Harriet did as she was told, still looking completely lost. 

“I want you to disarm me,” Snape stated plainly as he too, pulled out his wand. 

“You want me to what?”

“Disarm me, Harriet.”

She slowly nodded and took a moment to compose herself, trying to comprehend what was happening before launching a spell at him by waving her wand in an intricate motion. “Expelliarmus!”

Snape used a nonverbal spell to block her curse with a simple movement of the arm. 

“What was the point in that?” She asked, looking confused as to why he’d blocked her curse. She thought this was a practice lesson. 

“Again,” was all he responded with. 

Huffing, Harriet reciprocated her actions once more only to watch as Snape blocked the jinx yet again. “I don’t understand—”

“Again.”

Grumbling, she shot the spell for a third time. “Expelliarmus!”

This time Snape not only deflected the curse but also sent one back at her to which she quickly jumped out of the way so as to not get hit. Looking back between him and the area in which the hex had hit the wall, Harriet was too shocked to speak.

“Professor McGonagall tells me you want to be an Auror. An Auror faces her curses, she does not flinch away.”

“I— I wasn’t ready!” Harriet tried to explain, stumbling to find words. 

“In the real world, you will never be ready.”

“But—” she started just as Snape threw another curse her way, to which she actually blocked this time, with her wand that was. Staring up angrily at the man, Harriet drew a jinx of her own and hurled it towards her Professor. 

Shielding himself with ease, Snape launched another hex towards Harriet. She responded by quickly rolling out of the way and sending double curses at him, one after another. 

Though he was surprised by her skill, it wasn’t enough to set him off his guard, because Snape barricaded himself with a large shield-like projection while simultaneously aiming a set of three hexes towards Harriet. She managed, much to her surprise, to block the first two, but the third hex hit her in the arm causing her to crouch on her knees holding the injury. “What’s the point in all this?” She voiced out of breath, struggling to draw air into her lungs. 

“To prepare you,” Snape answered and walked over to her to fix the wound. 

“Prepare me for what?”

“I think you know,” he said and stepped back after mending the cut. 

“I really don’t,” Harriet mumbled, watching as he walked away and back to his corner, standing in an offensive position. 

“The Dark Lord has risen again,” Harriet noted how he called Voldemort the  _ ‘Dark Lord’ _ , “and you will need to defend yourself against him when he returns for you.

“Now,” he started off again, “nonverbal spells, they are difficult when first learning, but a necessity in duelling practices. I want you to try it.”

“You haven’t told me how to use a nonverbal spell,” Harriet complained, already having had enough of this nonsense. 

“Wave your wand in the same motion as you would for the spell you wish to conjure, the rest will come together by itself.”

Shaking her head from side to side, Harriet tried a nonverbal spell. 

While speaking the words in her head, she allowed her hand to flow through the air as it normally would for a disarming charm. A small spark emitted from the tip of her wand while Snape’s moved slightly, but it didn't leave his hand. 

“Try it again,” he said, waiting for her to get into a more defensive stance. Harriet did so, and sent the same spell towards him, causing his wand to waver again, but not fully leave his hand. 

“You need to mean it, Harriet,” he said sternly. 

“I do mean it!” She defended. 

“Them make it more powerful, you’re not sending a strong enough connection.”

“I’m trying my best!”   
  
“Then try harder. Come on, again.”

Through gritted teeth, Harriet directed her jix towards him, yet failed again. Groaning in annoyance towards herself, she tried another half dozen times, but was still unsuccessful. 

“Can we take a break?” She asked, looking like she just might explode from frustration. She’d never not been able to do something after this many failed attempts, not even when it came to her Patronus charm which was also extremely advanced. 

“No,” Snape replied, “again.”

“I’m sick of this! Can’t you see I’ve had enough?!”

“Again,” he answered sternly. 

With anger boiling up inside her, Harriet pitched the strongest curse she had formed yet. And much to her revelation, the spell struck Snape’s hand directly, sending his wand flying towards her. She caught in hand in more than just surprise, a huge smile forming across her face. 

“I did it,” Harriet mumbled to herself. 

Snape smiled as well as walked over to her, it took everything he had in him to not hug the girl. “You did,” he stated kindly. 

“Thank you.”. 

Snape nodded. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

Harriet agreed and handed him back his wand before striking the curse again, and again, and again. Five times in a row she managed to disarm the Professor, now with ease. 

The next time she shot the nonverbal curse, he blocked it. Harriet smirked to herself and tried again, this time with a different spell. Snape obstructed that spell as well and quickly fired one back at her.

Now, with her new skills, Harriet tried blocking the oncoming hex nonverbally and managed to successfully do so. She squealed a bit in excitement, only to watch as Snape prepared to send another spell, though upon seeing him draw his wand back, she very swiftly shot one of her own. 

While trying to change from an offensive to a defensive position, Snape was too unprepared by Harriet’s speed and was sent staggering backwards slightly upon the impact of the spell.

He smiled at her as he straightened himself upright and dusted his cloak. “You’re learning very quickly,” he said, amused by how well she was doing. 

“Only because I have the best Professor,” she stated without really realizing what she had just said, because the old fact was: she hated Snape, only now: she didn’t. 

_ ‘Hatred’ _ , thought Harriet,  _ ‘what a strange thing.’ _  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this chapter is super short, but I felt like it had to end where it did to make a lasting impression. Hope you enjoy and be sure to leave comments!

Much to her dismay, Harriet sat in Professor Umbridge's office that night, having been summoned by her for skiving off class that day. 

“Might you inform me why you were not in class this morning?” Umbridge fumed, it was an amazing shock to Harriet that smoke hadn’t yet come drilling from her ears at this point she looked so infuriated. 

“I was with Professor Snape,” Harriet said calmly, only now realizing she not only had the perfect excuse, but also the perfect alibi. 

“And why exactly were you with Professor Snape, might I ask?” 

“We had a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Umbridge posed. 

“Yes, you see, a meeting is where two or more people engage in back and forth conversation to discuss an issue or topic.”

Now Harriet swore she could see a black fog coming from the holes in the sides of Umbridge’s head. 

“I will not be spoken to as much, Miss Potter!” Professor Umbridge fumed angrily, her face a bubbling red, almost looking as if she had eaten one of Fred and George’s sweets by accident. 

“I was only explaining since you asked—”

“MISS POTTER!” Her shriek made a few students in the halls turn around to see what was going on, only to scoot out of the way when they saw a rather unhappy looking Professor Umbridge glaring at Harriet. 

“Yes, Professor?” She asked sweetly, which only seemed to enrage Professor Umbridge even more. 

“I will no longer tolerate your behaviour! You must be taught a lesson!” Umbridge boomed. 

“So my torture last week was just all fun and games to you?” 

“It was what you deserved!” She shot back. 

Harriet scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If you think you can make my life any worse, think again, because you can’t, I'm already living my worst nightmare. This place is hell, and you’re the devil,  _ Dolores _ .”

Umbridge chuckled darkly and took out her wand, making Harriet scoot away in her seat.

“N-no… No..”

“Oh don’t be frightened dear, this won’t hurt at all,” she said with a smile. “Just try to relax, alright?”

Harriet stared at her with wide eyes, trying to find the courage to move, to get up and run, but she found that was so frightened that she wasn’t able to. Fear had struck her and she was spiralling down with it.    


Professor Umbridge pointed her wand towards the petrified girl and shot her curse. 

_ “Somnum exterreri,”  _ she said in her mockish, happy-go-lucky tone. A flash of black light emitted the room and Harriet was struck right in the chest. 

__________

_ Harriet found herself tumbling back, or at least she thought she was, and into an abyss. She continued to fall through what felt like a never-ending pit of darkness. Everything was black. In an unconscious state with her limbs flailing whatever which way gravity pulled them, a brown mess of tangled hair trailed behind her, Harriet passed through nothingness.  _

_ The pressure locking down on her was almost unbearable. It felt as though her own head was at risk of exploding into a bloodied mess. A burning sensation that was left behind, travelled down her body touching every cell, threatening to rip them apart. Everything hurt. All she felt was pain. _

_ Pain. That one word seemed to describe her life. It held the definition of all she experienced. The only thing she knew. _

_ These thoughts continued to feed her mind as she fell through time and space. Suddenly, everything came to a stop. _

_ All at once, the darkness disappeared, a light came into view, and her eyes opened. Seconds later she felt her body crash through a roof like it was nothing but a thin sheet of glass, and finally stop falling by colliding with what appeared to be a baby’s crib.  _

_ Looking around the room in disturbance, Harriet thought that it all seemed vaguely familiar: the stacks of books propped up on the bookshelf, the teddy bear on the nightstand, the toy broom in the corner of the room, the cat which was sleeping on the dresser beside a bucket of toys, even the wallpaper around the space, Harriet seemed to vaguely recollect.  _

_ “Lily! Take Harriet, run!” She heard a voice that sounded very much like her father’s shout towards what must have been her mother.  _

_ “No, James, I’m not leaving you!” _

_ “Lily, for Harriet’s sake, go! Please! Save yourselves!”  _

_ Lily must have listened because Harriet heard footsteps scampering up the stairs which then led into the bedroom she was in. And then, right there and at that moment, before her eyes, Harriet saw her mother and herself, only much younger, perhaps only a year old, standing in the doorway.  _

_ Harriet climbed out of the tiny crib, which she wasn’t sure how she managed to fit inside, and over to her mother, her one arm outstretched as if she were about to touch her. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she tried to hold her, but her hand simply floated through Lily’s body, as if she were nothing but thin air, a ghost.  _

_ Harriet took a step back and looked at her hand, trying to touch it but only watched as her fingers floated through her palm.  _

_ “Mum?” She posed, hoping she would hear her. Lily however couldn’t and only propped a baby Harriet into the crib.  _

_ “Mummy loves you,” she whispered. “Mummy loves you, Harriet.” _

_ “Mum?” Harriet tried again and attempted to touch her shoulder, but her hand simply passed through her body again.  _

_ “Be safe, Harrie. Be strong.” _

_ There was a sudden scream, a loud and deafening one, and then the sound of a body toppling to the ground. James was dead.  _

_ “MUM!” Harriet shouted this time, standing right in front of her, but nothing could draw her attention, because Harriet wasn’t really there. She was inside a figment of her imagination. “WHAT’S GOING ON?! PLEASE! TALK TO ME! PLEASE! JUST LOOK AT ME!” _

_ Lily turned her back on her daughter, her wand raised and pointed towards the door as none other than Voldemort himself walked into the room.  _

_ “Step aside, stupid girl,” he spat, trying to get to a baby Harriet who had now started crying in her crib.  _

_ “No, not Harriet! Not Harriet! Take me! Kill me!” Her mother began to beg, to plead with the snake-faced man.  _

_ “MUM!” The current ghost Harriet yelled. “MUM, MOVE! I--I’M NOT WORTH IT! PLEASE!” _

_ “I will not ask again, step aside.” _

_ “Don’t hurt her! Please!” Lily went on, refusing to move out of the way.  _

_ Seeing the wizard raise his wand, ghost Harriet made a run at her mother and tried to pull her aside so the spell didn’t collide with her, but she only tumbled to the floor, by herself, her mother still standing before the dark lord. _

_ “Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort sang in a bloodthirsty tone and watched as Lily dropped dead before his feet.  _

_ “NO!” Harriet cried, and crawled over to Lily’s body, “MUM! MUM, PLEASE! PLEASE! WAKE UP! DON’T GO! PLEASE DON’T GO!” She cried. She sobbed. She broke down on the spot, whimpering like mad as tears flooded her eyes. She tried to cradle her mother’s body, but her arms just kept slipping through her form like mist.  _

_ Her world started to twist into blackness again, and not figuratively, but literally. Harriet found herself spinning on the spot as darkness consumed her for a second time.  _

_ “NO! NO NO NO!” She hollered trying to stay attached to her mother. “LET ME STAY! LET ME BE WITH HER! NO!”  _

_ In seconds, she started to fall, and right through a roof once again, only this time, it was the roof of Hogwarts.  _

__________

Harriet opened her eyes and saw Umbridge smirking before her. 

“Enough of a nightmare for you?” She asked in a peppy voice. 

  
“Y-you-you’re a-a m-monster,” Harriet stuttered, unable to speak properly from the pure shock of having seen her mother drop dead before her eyes. She wiped her face and peered down, unable to look Umbridge in the eyes. “I h-hate y-you.’

“Likewise,” Umbridge laughed a little and got out of her. “Now off to bed. Go on.”

Standing on shaky legs, Harriet rose to her feet and stumbled out of her office, the sound of her mother and father’s screams still piercing her ears. 

There was no way in Merlin's hell she’d sleep well tonight, not after that. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any spelling errors!

“Harrie, slow down, I don’t understand. Umbridge did what?” Hermione asked Harriet the next morning. 

Harriet hadn't slept at all that night. Her mother and father’s screams had been piercing her ears for hours, and every time she closed her eyes all she could picture was her mother’s corpse. It was terrifying, to say the least. And now, her eyes were red and bloodshot from having not slept, her hair a tangled mess from having tossed and turned so much in bed, and her pyjamas dishevelled to a point that they were nearly torn because of Harriet having been pulling at her sleeves so much in the horror of the voices and images playing in her head. 

“She made me see my parents’ deaths again! I was there, I saw my mother die! I heard my father scream!”

“Harriet,” Hermione started in a low and spectacle voice, though she did look sad, “are you sure you didn’t just have a nightmare?”

“No! Of course, I didn’t! I watched her cast that spell on me! I felt it!”

Hermione sighed and moved to sit beside her. “Out of all the textbooks I’ve read, I’ve never come across a spell of any sort that could do something like that.”

“Well, maybe she created it herself!”

“I doubt it.”

“Why not? All spells are created by someone!”

Hermione looked towards with a dubious expression. “It just sounds like you had a nightmare, Harrie. And honest, it’s not that I don’t believe you—”

“You don’t believe me!” Harriet raised her voice as she stood, eyeing her friend angrily. “If you believed me you’d want to hex Umbridge for what he did!”

“Harrie, Professor Umbridge is a terrible woman, and I’m sorry you had to go through what you did, but it really sounds like it was all in your head.”

“Of course it was all in my head, I wasn’t actually there! It’s not like I was travelling for Merlin’s sake!” Harriet started to explain in a heated tone, her eyebrows furrowed and lips curled. “But she did curse me!”

Hermione, trying to remain calm, took Harriet’s hand in hers and pulled her down to take a seat on the end of the bed again. “Harrie, just think about it, how likely is it, even if there is such a curse—”

“Which there is,” Harriet grumped. 

“Which there  _ might _ be,” Hermione went on, “that she would hurt you like that?”

“Pretty bloody likely after she used the imperius curse on me to try and force me to slice my fucking hand open!” 

“She—she what?” Hermione struggled to find words, unable to still herself from her racing heart-beat and wild mind. Thoughts kept rushing through her head about how unspeakable Umbrdige’s actions were, and how terrified she was for Harriet. 

Harriet took a breath before speaking. “That’s why I was in the hospital wing. She used the imperius curse to attempt to force me to use a bloodquill. Only I fought off the curse, but— but she used it so many times, Hermione…”

“Oh, Harrie…” Hermione gulped, tears running down her cheeks as she pulled her in for a hug, holding her friend tightly in her arms as to try to give and also find some sense of comfort. “I’m so sorry… I’m so so sorry, — I had no idea…”

“Well at least it wasn’t the cruciatus curse,” mumbled Harriet half-heartedly.

“But this is just as horrible!” Hermione bellowed.

“The thing she did last night was worse…”

“She really cursed you? She really made you relive your parents’ deaths?” 

Harriet nodded as she pulled away and out of the embrace, suppressing soft sobs as she looked down at her entwined hands, her fingers fidgeting like mad. “It—it was so h-horrible , Hermione. I had to w-watch my—my mother die. And th-there was n-nothing could d-do! She j-just d-dropped dead r-right before m-me!”

“That must have been so difficult, Harrie, and you're so brave for fighting through that, honest. I don’t know anyone half as courageous as you.”

Harriet shook her head. “I—I don’t feel brave, I—I f-feel weak, l-like nothing. A coward” 

“Well you’re not, Harriet,” Hermione said in a soft yet stern voice. “You’re in no way a coward.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

__________

At breakfast, Harriet seemed to be in a forevermore glum mood, but the day only proceeded to get worse when the Prophet was set down before them by the owls. 

Hermione let out a huge gasp and flattened the newspaper to reveal a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge, smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline.

_ MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM _

_ DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR _

“High Inquisitor?” said Harriet darkly, her half-eaten piece of toast slipping from her fingers, the jam sliding off the burnt bread and onto her plate. “What does that mean?”

Hermione read aloud: “In a surprise move, last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  ‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about the goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. He is now responding to concerns, voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of. 

This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person. 

‘That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. Dumbledore couldn't find anyone so the Minister put in Umbridge, and of course, she's been an immediate success — "

“She's been a WHAT?” Harriet exclaimed loudly.

“Wait, there's more,” said Hermione grimly. “— an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts. It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. The Inquisitor will have the power to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. 

Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post and we are delighted to say that she has accepted. '

The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts. 

‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.’ Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody. Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. 

‘I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence,’ said a Ministry insider last night.

‘Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. ‘Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,’ said Madam Marchbanks. This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore. '

(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)'”

Hermione finished reading and looked across the table at the other two.

“So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this "Educational Decree" and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect the other teachers!” She said frantically, rushing a hand through her now dishevelled hair. “This is outrageous!”

“It is,” Harriet sniffed and she peered down at her right hand which was clenched on the table-top and saw the faint white outline of the words Umbridge had forced her to cut into her skin.

Though when she looked back up, Ron was smirking. 

“What?” sassed Harriet and Hermione together, staring at him.

“Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected,” said Ron happily. “Umbridge won't know what hit her.”

Harriet seemed to perk up a bit at this. Knowing McGonagall would give it to Umrbdieg was reassuring for the terrible start to her day. 

“Well, we’d better hurry off the class if she's inspecting Binns this morning,” Hermione grumbled and got up. 

However, Professor Umbridge was not inspecting their History of Magic lesson, which was excruciatingly dull, and nor was she in Snape's dungeon when they arrived for double Potions, where Harriets moonstone essay was handed back to her, much to her surprise, with an ‘E’ scrawled in an upper right-hand corner.

“I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL’s. This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination,” said Snape as he reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

“The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a ‘D’.”

“Who received a ‘D’?’ Malfoy snickered. “Longbottom or Finnigan I suppose.”

“Enough, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape chanted drearily. “You yourself were only one mark away from failing.”

Harriet giggled at this to which Draco turned to beat red in both anger and embarrassment. 

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it, Malfoy,” Harriet stated as class started and the potion brewing began. 

Drac sneered and looked over at her, his hands balled into fists.“Well, I don’t suppose  _ you  _ did any better, Potter.”

“For your information, not that I should need to tell you this, I received an ‘E’.”

“Congregations,” he smirked, “must be the first decent mark you’ve gotten since… ever.”

Harriet rolled her eyes, she had decided that she wasn’t going to let him bother her today. “And must be the first near pass you’ve had from all the failures these past few years, huh?”

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” she reposed sassily, and with a small smirk. 

As Harriet peered over at Hermione’s near-perfect turquoise potion, she looked back down at hers which was pale blue. At least it was better than Neville hot pink liquid which seemed to be overboiling,’ she thought to herself. 

“Acceptable, Miss Potter,” Snape said as he walked by, “had you cut your pixy wings more precisely it would have been perfect, but nevertheless, better than last year.” He offered her a nod before moving over to Malfoy. 

“I’m surprised you managed to pull this one off, Mr. Malfoy, perhaps being beside Miss Potter gave you an edge.

“Miss Granger,” Snape moved on to Harriet’s other side, “straight from the textbook.” Hermione frowned, Snape was never this nice, but still, she smiled and thanked him kindly in response. 

Ron wasn’t quite as lucky, but Snape didn’t gruel at him, he simply made a small face and passed by to eye the rest of the class’s work. 

By the time, the bell rang, Harriet had already packed her things and was hurrying both Ron and Hermione to get off to Transfiguration. 

Professor Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner and the sight of her drove the memory of breakfast right out of his head.

“Excellent,” whispered Ron, as they sat down in their usual seats. “Let's see Umbridge get what she deserves.”

Harriet offered him a small smile, though she was freaking out on the inside, she didn’t feel safe to be in a classroom with Umbridge and not another Professor, even if there were dozens of other students there. 

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there, the perfect start, and Harriet felt slightly more relaxed. 

“That will do,” Professor McGonagall said as silence fell immediately and students all took their respective seats.

“Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework — Miss Brown, please take this box of mice — don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you — and hand one to each student —”

“Hem, hem,” said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. But Professor McGonagall simply ignored her.

Seamus handed back Harriet's essay, she took it without looking at him and saw, to her relief, that she had managed an 'A'.

“Right then, everyone, listen closely — Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention — most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be —”

“Hem, hem,” said Professor Umbridge, making Harriet flinch. 

“Yes?” Professor McGonagall asked as she turned around, looking more than annoyed. 

“I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec—”

“Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom,” said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge.

Many of the students exchanged looks of glee as her words towards the High Inquisitor. 

“As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell —”

“Hem, hem.” Her noise made Harriet jump, again as she squirmed in her seat unformattable. Hermione, who she was sitting beside, saw this and took her hand to try and soothe her, even in the slightest, which it did. It made Harriet realize she wasn’t alone. 

“I wonder,: said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, “how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking.”

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face.

She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.  
  


Addressing the class since more, not really caring what Umbridge was doing or writing, McGonagall resumed. “As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to vanish. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. So — you know the incantation, let me see what you can do …”

After many attempts, Harriet had someone manage to make all but the mouse's whiskers disappear, whereas Hermione had done so perfectly, while Ron was struggling with the nail which was still propped on his desk. 

As class ended and they filed out of the classroom, Harriet saw Professor Umbridge approach the teacher's desk; she nudged Ron, who nudged Hermione in turn, and the three of them deliberately fell back to eavesdrop.

“How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” Professor Umbridge asked.

“Thirty-nine years this December,” said Professor McGonagall brusquely, snapping her bag shut while Professor Umbridge made a note.

“Very well,” she said, “you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time.

“I can hardly wait,” said Professor McGonagall, in a coldly indifferent voice, and she strode off towards the door. “Hurry up, you three,” she added, sweeping Harriet, Ron and Hermione before her.

Harriet could not help giving her a faint smile and could have sworn she received one in return. 

__________

Divination, compared to Defense, had not gone well, at least for Professor Trelawney. Umbridge had practically damaged her turning class what with all the questions and comments she was making towards her. 

During the class, Harriet even started feeling badly for her professor because of how harsh Umbridge was, and as the two got into a fierce conversation, Professor Umbridge doing most of the talking while Professor Trelawney struggled to answer, Harriet went into a daze, Umbridge’s voice guiding her mind back to the night before and those before that. 

_ A second passed, and Harriet was already close to tears.  _

_ Two seconds: She could feel her own blood leaking down her hand. And she pressed the tip of the quill against the parchment.  _

_ Three seconds: Harriet looked at the back of her hand and literally saw the crimson colouring flooding her vision.  _

_ Four seconds: The words started to cut deeper, drilling into the skin like a muggle screwdriver.  _

_ Five seconds: She hissed in pain, it was so real.  _

_ Six seconds: She set down the still.  _

_ Seven seconds: White-hot pain erupted across her body as the imperius curse was added into the mix.  _

_ Eight seconds: She fought the urge to pick up the writing utensil and benign carving out her hand again.  _

_ Nine seconds: She felt herself tumble to the floor, her knees aching from the abrupt landing.  _

_ Ten seconds: Harriet was flat on her back now, groaning in pain and discomfort.  _

_ Eleven seconds: She could hear her father’s scream and the sound of his body crumpling to the carpeted floor. Dead.  _

_ Twelve seconds: She started to cry, to bawl, to sob in despair.  _

_ Thirteen seconds: Oh how Harriet wished to be elsewhere, anywhere by here.  _

_ Fourteen seconds: Her mother entered the room, her face terrified and struck with horror. _

_ Fifteen seconds: Voldemort was close behind.  _

_ Sixteen seconds: Harriet simply watched in grief as the killing curse shot out towards Lily, the green aura of the spell striking her in slow motion, making it all the slower and all the more painful to watch.  _

_ Seventeen seconds: Harriet screamed and ran to her mother, crawling on the floor to try and hold her, but her arms just slipped through. She was nothing but a ghost.  _

_ Eighteen seconds: ‘MOM!’ she heard her voice echo through her mind. ‘MOM! PLEASE!’ _

_ Nineteen seconds: She started quivering with fear, unable to stop her limbs from shaking uncontrollably on the spot.  _

_ Twenty seconds: On and on it went, forevermore. _

What was probably another couple of minutes later, was Harriet finally able to open her eyes, only to see she was still in divination, not in Umbridge’s office or in her old house with her mother. 

Professor Umbridge was still arguing away with Trelawny, and Harriet quickly excused herself and ran into the hall, her breaths heavy and unsynced. She leaned against the wall, slipping down her bottom with her head resting in her hands and knees curled up to cover her face. 

“Miss Potter!” The voice of the last person she wanted to see or hear spoke. “Might you tell me why you’ve run out of class?!” 

Harriet cringed upon hearing Umbridge speak, she couldn’t form words, she was too scared. 

“Look at me!” She yelled and reached out to raise Harriet’s chin so she was staring right up at her. 

Harriet immediately started to hyperventilate as Umbridge touched her. She felt like a deer stuck in headlights as the muggles would say. 

The Professor only smirked down at her and yanked her arm to pull her up. “My office, please. We must have a little chat about your disgusting behaviour.”

“N-no, no, no no no…” Harriet whined as Umbridge pulled her along the halls. “P-please!”

“You may apologize in my office,” Professor Umbridge snapped and yanked her harder, so much so that Harriet was practically dragged behind her like a dog on a leash. She thought her arm might just fall off from how hard Umbridge was tugging and how much she was resisting to follow.

“I’M SORRY! I'M SORRY PROFESSOR!” Harriet screamed at the top of her lungs, praying someone would come out of a classroom to save her. 

Professor Umbridge abruptly stopped walking, turned around, and slapped her across the face. “I will tolerate this racket!” 

Harriet stared at her, dumbfounded, as her cheek turned bright red. She was reluctant to touch it because she didn’t want to give Umbridge any sastication, but she was already in tears, and Umbridge could clearly see how upset she was. Her professor was thrilled by her emotional and traumatized state. 

“I will, have, order!” She cried and started drawing Harriet down to her office again. 

Harriet was sure it couldn’t possibly be any worse than last time, but oh how she was mistaken because as it turns out, Umbridge couldn’t just make past memories replay in her mind, she could create visions and scenes for her to see. Ones that weren’t even real. 

Reality would soon morph with fiction in Harriet’s mind, it was a scary game for Umbridge to play, and she would win while Harriet would lose. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm alive and back to writing again! I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!  
> ~ Nayra

Harriet felt herself tumbling. Her head was swaying from side to side, left and right, and back and forth as the spell smashed into her. 

‘No,’ She thought to herself. ‘Not again. Please not again…’ Harriet didn’t want to witness death again, she didn’t want to relive her worst memories and see her worst fears come back to life. 

As she continued to fall in what felt like a bottomless pit of darkness, without a moment’s notice, Harriet felt her neck snap backwards upon a sudden impact with the ground. She moaned in pain, trying to recover from the whiplash and looked around, noticing herself, or rather her past self, and Cedric, standing not a meter away. The Tri-Wizard Cup was on the grass several yards away from them, having been dropped after the shock of discovering it was actually a port-key. 

“No,” Harriet mumbled to herself. “No… Not this… Anything but this.”

She watched as a past form of herself from fourth-year gasped in pain and fell to a single knee, clutching her forehead in the spot where her scar resided.

_“Cedric! Get back to the cup!”_ She yelled as a finger holding a bundle emerged from off to the side. 

_“Who are you, what do you want?” Cedric demanded as he raised his wand, staring in a defensive potion._

_“Kill the spare,” a dark and rusted voice whispered from the shadows._

_“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Another person vocalized as Harriet’s past self shout: “Duck!” while trying to pull Cedric down with her. Only it was too late. By the time she had grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and yanked him down, the spark of green light had flashed past her eyes. Cedric was dead._

_His body collapsed beside her, frozen in motion and thought. A terrified yet confused expression was still painted on his face; his eyes wide, lips parted, and brows furrowed. The hint of a scream filled with pure agony rested upon his tongue, but the sound never escaped his mouth._

_“No,” past Harriet mumbled, reaching down to cup his deathly-looking face in her hands, her thumbs caressing his cheeks. “NO! NO!” She screamed this time, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and falling down shortly after, creating a large pool that soaked the collar of her robes. “Cedric, no…”_

_The present Harriet stared in shock as Cedric lay motionless on the ground before her as her past self started shaking him lightly as if trying to somehow snap life back into him._ _A few lone tears fell down her cheeks as she started to whimper and quiver on the spot, unsure of how to interpret seeing the scene unfold again._

_While her past self broke down on the spot, a short man in a cloak, the one who had cast the curse, put down what appeared to be a bundle of cloth. He lit his wand and started dragging a crying Harriet, the fourth-year one, toward the marble headstone she had seen when she and Cedric first arrived. She managed to catch a glimpse of the name upon the tomb, though her present self remembered the writing all too well, before she was forced around and slammed against it, hard._

_TOM RIDDLE_

_The cloaked man started conjuring tight cords around past Harriet, tying her from neck to ankles to the headstone while her present self stared in dead shock, peering back and forth from Cedric, the cup, the cloaked man, and herself._

_Present Harriet could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the man’s hood. They were loud enough to hear through her past self’s quite audible cries and gasps. Her present self was dead silent, unable to process what was going on. Her brain didn’t want to know what was going on. Her eyes didn’t want to see what was happening. Her ears didn’t want to listen to her sobs and pitiful cries of desperation._

_Past Harriet started to struggle against the man’s hold and was smacked rather roughly across the face with a hand, one that had a finger missing. That’s when she realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail._

_"You!" she gasped in both shock and pure fury. “I’ll kill you!” Harriet screeched through wretched sobs of despair. “I’ll kill, Wormtail! I’ll kill you!”_

_But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots he had tied over Harriet’s chest. Satisfied with the security of the bindings, he tore a piece of dark fabric from his cloak and stuffed it into Harriet’s mouth. She tried to spit the foul-smelling and ghastly-tasting gag out, but he had stuffed it too far down her throat for her to sputter back up._

_As Wormtail made his way to the ball of cloth on the ground, the one that passed Harriet now noticed to be moving, she looked off into the distance, to where his present self was glancing and saw both Cedric’s body and the Tri-Wizard cup some twenty yards away. The cup was shining brightly in the moonlight, the fluorescent blue colouring matching that of the moon and looking quite lively compared to the pale enchantment that had been cast over Cedric as he slipped into death’s grasp. He looked anything but peaceful, being spread-eagled on the ground in a graveyard._

_Movement across her peripheral vision caught present Harriet’s attention and she noticed Wormtail picking up the ferociously moving bundle. As he took it in his arms and moved it to the side, Harriet’s scar started to burn furiously. She gasped in pain and tried to reach a hand up to cover her forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the spiking affliction, only to remember that her arm was bound by her side._

_Wormtail’s fast and uneasy breaths started up again as both Harriet’s noticed him pulling a rather large cauldron, one larger than she had ever seen before, up to the foot of the grave she was tied to. Water seemed to be sloshing inside its steel walls making the thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground stir more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. As if it were excited._

_Seconds later, at the bottom of the cauldron, appeared a fire that glowed brightly in Harriet’s eyes and heating her toes. With some sort of enhancement, the liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very quickly, the surface beginning not only to bubble but to also send out fiery sparks within seconds._

_"Hurry!" The same, dark, eerie voice Harriet had heard before, spoke again._

_Green sparks parks flew into the air, having been emitted from the liquid in the cauldron. It was like small fireworks going off in the center of a lake, seemingly impossible._

_“It is ready now, Master,” said Wormtail._

_“Then begin,” the voice whispered back._

_With a short nod, Wormtail revealed what was hidden under the blankets, causing past Harriet to let out a muffled scream, most of the noise being blocked by the gag, while her present self just started on into oblivion._

_Inside, was a deranged-looking child. It sported greyish white skin, slits for a nose, beat-red eyes, and thin, feeble arms and legs. The thing quite literally looked like death, if death were a person, or in this case, a creature._

_Seemingly helpless, the small being wrapped its arms loosely around Wormtail’s neck as he knelt down, holding on for dear life as if afraid a tumble would cost it its life._

_As the child-looking beast was raised off the ground and dumped into the cauldron, hitting the bottom with a soft thud._

_‘Let it drown,” thought Harriet desperately as her scar seemingly felt as though it had caught fire it burnt so much. ‘Just let it drown. Let it die. Please…’ Present Harriet thought the same wish, even though she knew very well what was about to happen in coming minutes._

_The sound of Wormtail speaking caught her off guard and she peered over towards the source of the noise. There, by the cauldron, she saw him shaking and frightened beyond his wits. With his wand raised and eyes closed, he spoke to the night: "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

_The entire surface between Harriet’s feet started to crack and crumble. She looked down fearfully as a single bone, presumably from Tom Riddle, shot up and zoomed into Wormtail’s hand. He dropped it in the basin of liquid making it spark like wildfire, except its hue was a poisonous-looking blue rather than orangy-red as one would expect it to be._

_Now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a sharp silver dagger from inside his cloak and when he spoke next, his voice broke into petrified sobs._

_"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."_

_He stretched his right hand out in front of him, the hand with the missing finger and gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand, his entire body shaking like mad._

_Upon realizing what Wormtail was about to do seconds before it happened, Harriet’s past self very quickly closed her eyes while her present form stared on._

_Wormtail’s anguished scream of pure agony and the sound of a hand hitting the ground echoed through both pairs of her ears. Feeling sick to the stomach, past Harriet kept her eyes shut as he threw the hand into the cauldron, a quite audible splash sounding throughout the air as it hit the liquid surface._

_"B-blood of the enemy...forcibly taken...you will...resurrect your foe,” Wormtail gasped, his hard, cold breaths hitting Harriet in the face making her immediately open her eyes to see what was happening._

_He had brought the knife up to her arm and was single handedly cutting away her robes to reveal her flesh._

_“N-no,” Harriet whispered and started to struggle within the bonds holding her to the gravestone. “P-please-- don’t--” Before she could say another word, the edge of the blade had slid across her arm making her past form squeak in pain and her present form wince. Her present self couldn’t feel the pain, but the image of her wrist being sliced open made her squirm in her shoes._

_Blood started to pool out of the wound, and as it did, Wormtail quickly recovered a vial from his pocket and held it to the cut to collect it._

_After doing so, he staggered back over to the cauldron and thrust it inside, causing one final blow to emerge from the basin, this one filled with white smoke._

_Harriet coughed as she accidentally inhaled the fumes and watched as a tall figure turned up from inside the cauldron, the steam blocking most of the person’s form._

_Her present self started to shake in both fear and rage. She knew who this was. She knew that horrible figure._

_“M-master…” Wormtail sobbed, clutching his mutilated arm and bowing down to the figure on his knees._

_“Robe me,” the man called back, waiting for Wormtail to work his way to his feet once again and carefully place the clothes that he had previously been brought out in over his body._

_After wrapping them over his head, Wormtail stepped back, moaning in pain, and watched as the thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring profusely at Harriet. And Harriet’s past self stared back. She stared back into the face that had haunted her nightmares for three years, Lord Voldemort._

__________

“That should be enough!” Umbridge squeaked happily and set her wand down on the table beside her. “Off you go! Back to class!”

Harriet sat in her seat, unable to move. She never thought she’d ever have to actually relive that moment in its entirety ever again. Yet, just now, she did. 

“Miss Potter, you are free to leave,” Umbridge said in a sweet, mocking tone. 

Harriet was still frozen in place, unable to speak and unable to move. All she could do was feel. And the pain she felt was unreal. It was death. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to give comments, make bookmarks, and leave comments!  
> (I always love feedback and responses or even ideas for future chapters from my readers!)  
> Cheers!  
> ~ Nayra


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